THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


WHEN  THE  BUGLE  CALLED 


WHEN  THE  BUGLE 
CALLED 


BY 
EDITH    TATUM 

\r 


NEW  YORK  AND  WASHINGTON 
THE    NEALE   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 

1908 


COPYRIGHT,   1908,   BY 
EDITH   TATUM 


wit 


To   my  father, 
EDWARD  CRENSHAW, 

and  to 

MAY  HARRIS, 

to  whose  encouragement  this  little 

volume  owes  so   much,  it  is 

affectionately  dedicated. 


CONTENTS 

£ 

Jjj      CHAPTER  PAGE 

^           I  A  Crucifix  and  a  Red  Ribbon     ...  9 

II  Three  Years  Later    ....          .  24 

III  The  Preparation 37 

IV  The  Yankees 47 

V  News  of  Keith 58 

VI  The  Return  of  the  Crucifix      ...  66 

1      VII  Dahlia 79 

VIII  The  Shadow  in  the  Darkness     .      .      .  -  91 

S        IX  The  Uprising 101 

X  The  Return in 

XI  A  Knot  of  Red  Ribbon        ....  123 

u 


WHEN  THE  BUGLE  CALLED 

CHAPTER    I 
A   CRUCIFIX  AND  A   RED  RIBBON 

"  I  LEAVE  everything  in  your  hands,  my 
dear,  with  perfect  confidence  that  all  will  be 
well.'"  Captain  Dupre  paced  the  library 
floor,  his  sword  clanking  at  every  step — 
while  Marie,  his  eldest  daughter,  stood  by 
the  table,  receiving  his  final  instructions. 

"  Consult  with  old  Jerry  about  plantation 
affairs — he  is  to  be  trusted  implicitly.  A 
girl  of  nineteen  is  rather  young  to  be  left  in 
charge  of  a  family  and  a  big  plantation,  eh?  " 
And  he  looked  at  her  with  a  questioning 
smile.  White  to  the  lips,  but  with  brave 
eyes,  she  smiled  back  at  him. 

'  You  have  always  helped  me  so  much 
about  the  place  that  I  know  you  are  thor 
oughly  competent  to  manage  it;  and  Dahlia 
is  old  enough  to  help  you  with  household 
affairs  and  the  children." 


IO 

She  shook  her  head  doubtfully. 

"  Dahlia  is  such  a  child,  in  spite  of  her  six 
teen  years — such  a  wild  thing;  she  needs 
looking  after  herself,"  she  said.  "  But 
Mammy  Cindy  will  take  much  off  my  mind. 
You  needn't  worry  one  bit  about  anything, 
father;  we  will  get  on  beautifully.  If 

only "  Her  voice  broke  and  she  stood 

silent. 

He  paused,  waiting  for  her  to  complete 
her  sentence. 

"Well?    If  only ?" 

"  It  is  the  danger  to  you,  father.  Oh,  this 
horrible  war!  "  And  she  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands,  sobbing  quietly. 

"Hush,  my  dear;  you  must  be  brave,  for 
the  children's  sake;  they  look  to  you,  you 
know.  I  would  not  leave  you  if  I  could  help 
it.  Would  you  have  an  army  go  to  defend 
the  firesides  of  the  South  without  a  Dupre  in 
it?  When  the  bugle  calls,  must  I  stop  my 
ears?" 

"No,  no!"  she  cried,  throwing  up  her 
head,  her  gray  eyes  flashing.  "  I  would  not 


A  Crucifix  and  a  Red  Ribbon         1 1 

have  you  stay!  Oh,  I  wish  I  were  a  man 
and  could  go  in  your  stead!  Thank  God 
dear  mother  is  not  here  to  have  the  sorrow 
of  it  all!  "  she  added  in  a  low  voice. 

A  shadow  crossed  the  Captain's  face,  and 
he  turned  away  to  the  window. 

"  There  comes  Tom  with  the  horses,"  he 
said  at  last;  "  I  must  be  going." 

With  a  little  inarticulate  cry  she  ran  to 
him  and  clasped  her  arms  around  his  neck. 

"  Oh,  father,  come  back  to  us  soon !  "  she 
whispered.  • 

They  stood  silently  in  a  long  embrace,  then 
she  stepped  back  and  regarded  him  with  eyes 
shining  through  tears. 

"How  fine  and  brave  you  look!"  she 
said,  smiling  at  him  tenderly.  "  How  I 
would  love  to  ride  by  your  side  and  fight, 
too !  " 

"  You  can  fight  for  our  dear  Southland 
here  at  home  with  your  prayers,  little  daugh 
ter,  and  you  can  help  me  by  keeping  a  brave 
heart.  There  is  one  thing  more,"  he  added, 
his  hand  on  the  door;  "  if  you  should  need 


12  When  the  Bugle  Called 

advice  about  anything,  go  to  Father  De 
Berne — he  has  promised  to  have  all  of  you 
under  his  special  care." 

With  perfect  composure  she  followed  him 
into  the  hall,  where  were  gathered  the  chil 
dren  and  some  of  the  house  servants  to  sav 
good-by. 

"  Oh,  father,  if  you  would  only  let  me 
go !  "  cried  Philip,  a  manly-looking  boy  of 
fourteen,  as  he  returned  his  father's  warm 
embrace. 

"  And  leave  your  sisters  without  a  pro 
tector?  No,  my  boy,  your  place  is  here;  I 
hope  the  motherland  will  not  need  such 
youths  as  you  to  fight  for  her.  Dahlia,  Dah 
lia,  little  girl,  you  must  not  cry  so!  Remem 
ber,  you  are  almost  a  woman.  You  will  bear 
your  part  bravely,  will  you  not?  "  But  Dah 
lia  was  past  speaking,  and  she  rushed  from 
her  father's  arms  up  the  stairs,  to  cry  it  out 
in  her  own  room. 

Five-year-old  Elsie  was  wailing,  too, 
though  scarcely  realizing  why;  but  baby  Rich 
ard,  with  cocked  hat  of  paper  and  wooden 


A  Crucifix  and  a  Red  Ribbon         13 

sword,  paraded  the  hall,  wild  with  excite 
ment. 

"  I  want  to  go  wif  ou,  farver,  and  kill  a 
Yankee;  I  could  just  chop  off  his  head!  " 

His  father  kissed  him  with  wet  eyes. 

"  Take  care  that  you  are  a  good  laddie, 
and  don't  let  sister  Marie  cry  while  I  am 
away.  God  keep  you  all,  my  darlings. 
Mammy  Cindy,  look  after  them  for  me." 

"  Dat  I  will,  Mars  Phil.  Cindy  sho'  will 
tek  good  keer  er  her  babies.  An'  I  hope  de 
good  Lawd  will  fetch  you  home  ergin  soon, 
Mars  Phil,"  sobbed  the  old  negress. 

So  Captain  Philip  Dupre  rode  away  to 
Fairview,  the  county  seat,  to  join  his  company 
in  the  spring  of  1861,  and  Marie  stood  on 
the  stone  steps  and  watched  him  until  the  big 
gates  clanged  behind  him.  With  a  deep 
sigh  she  turned  back  to  the  children  standing 
sorrowfully  on  the  portico. 

"  No  lessons  to-day,  dears,"  she  said. 
"  How  would  you  like  a  walk  to  the  river? 
We  could  take  a  basket  and  gather  some  wild 
flowers." 


14  When  the  Bugle  Called 

The  three  faces  brightened  instantly,  and 
Elsie  and  little  Dick  ran  to  get  hats  and  a 
basket,  calling  loudly  as  they  ran  for  Snow 
drop  and  Mose. 

Just  then  the  sound  of  the  gates  slamming 
and  the  pounding  of  iron-shod  hoofs  on  the 
gravel  made  Marie  look  around.  Three 
gray-clad  figures  on  beautiful,  spirited  horses 
were  coming  full  tilt  up  the  driveway. 

"  It  is  Sydney  Elmore,  and  Keith,  and 
Michael !  "  cried  Philip  excitedly.  "  They 
must  be  going  this  morning,  too.  Oh,  I 
say!  "  he  continued,  as  they  dismounted  and, 
throwing  the  reins  to  convenient  little  darkies, 
came  up  the  steps,  "  it's  a  shame  I  can't  go, 
too." 

"  You !  "  said  Michael,  pinching  his  ear. 
"  There  isn't  a  nursery  department  in  the 
army,  you  know." 

"  But  Syd's  going,  and  he's  only  eighteen," 
the  boy  protested. 

"  There  is  a  vast  difference  in  fourteen  and 
eighteen,  my  son,"  laughed  Sydney  Elmore, 
patting  Philip's  head  patronizingly. 


A   Crucifix  and  a  Red  Ribbon         15 

Sydney  Elmore  was  a  fair,  slender  youth, 
the  son  of  a  wealthy  planter,  who  owned  a 
beautiful  place,  "  Huntingdon,"  further  up 
the  river.  The  families  had  been  lifelong 
friends,  and  he  had  grown  up  with  the  Du- 
pre  children,  Dahlia  being  the  special  object 
of  his  boyish  devotion. 

The  other  two  young  soldiers  lived  at 
"  Idlewild,"  the  plantation  adjoining  "  Oak- 
dale."  They  were  splendid  specimens  of 
Southern  manhood — handsome,  tall,  and 
strong,  with  faces  good  to  look  upon. 
Though  only  cousins,  they  might  have  passed 
for  brothers,  so  strikingly  alike  they  were, 
there  being  only  a  slight  difference  in  color 
ing  and  expression. 

"  Idlewild  "  had  been  left  to  Keith  Cava- 
nagh — the  elder  of  the  two — and  his  sister 
Aileen  by  the  old  uncle  who  had  reared  the 
three  orphan  children.  Michael,  to  whom 
his  uncle  had  bequeathed  money,  had  adopted 
the  profession  of  law,  but  still  made  "  Idle- 
wild  "  his  home. 

"  We  have  come  to  say  good-by,  Marie," 


16  When  the  Bugle  Called 

said  Keith.  "  We  decided  that  it  would  be 
better  just  to  go  right  on  to  Fairview  this 
morning.  Captain  Dupre  has  gone  already, 
has  he  not?  " 

'  Yes,"   answered   Marie,   "  he   had   some 
business  there  to  attend  to." 

She  spoke  with  difficulty,  and  leaned 
against  one  of  the  fluted  columns  of  the  por 
tico  for  support.  There  was  something  pa 
thetic  and  appealing  in  the  dejected  attitude 
and  drooping  head — she  seemed  so  slight  and 
young. 

The  brown  eyes  of  Keith  and  the  blue  eyes 
of  Michael  were  full  of  love  and  yearning 
tenderness  as  they  looked  at  her.  Her  own 
were  so  filled  with  tears  that  she  would  not 
raise  them. 

Both  men  turned,  and  their  glances  met 
challengingly.  But  Marie  was  getting  her 
self  in  hand,  and  at  last  she  smiled  at  them 
through  her  tears. 

"I  will  not  say  good-by,"  she  faltered; 
"  it  sounds  too  sad.  I'll  say  God  bless  you, 
instead." 


A   Crucifix  and  a  Red  Ribbon         17 

"  Mars  Keith,"  said  a  voice  from  the  cor 
ner  of  the  portico,  "  h'yers  de  lef  hine  foots 
er  two  graveyard  rabbits  I  kotch  fer  you  an' 
Mars  Michael.  Dey'll  keep  dem  Yankees 
f'um  hittin'  you,  an'  mek  you  an'  Mars  Mike 
shoot  ez  straight  ez  er  beeline,"  and  an  old 
negro  man,  hat  in  hand,  came  up  the  steps 
to  present  his  gifts. 

"  Why,  thank  you,  Uncle  Jerry.  That  was 
certainly  thoughtful  of  you." 

"  An',  Mars  Keith,  don't  you  let  dem  Yan 
kees  come  down  h'yer  an'  pester  we-all." 

Both  young  men  laughed. 

"  Why,  we'll  have  them  all  running  back 
home  in  a  month,  Uncle  Jerry !  "  cried  Mi 
chael. 

"  Das  all  right,  Mars  Michael.  Jes'  be 
sho'  you  does,  so  ez  you  kin  come  back  home. 
Lil'  Miss  don't  look  so  mighty  peart.  Ole 
Marster  he  done  gone  dis  mawnin',  an'  now 
h'yer  goes  you  an'  Mars  Keith.  An'  whut 
Miss  Dahlia  gwine  do  ef  you  goes,  Mars 
Syd?  "  he  continued,  turning  to  where  young 
Elmore  stood  leaning  against  the  door. 


1 8  When  the  Bugle  Called 

"  Oh,  we'll  be  back  in  a  few  weeks,  Uncle 
Jerry,"  laughed  Sydney.  "  They  will  be  glad 
to  be  rid  of  us  for  a  while." 

"  I  dunno'  so  much  erbout  dat.  An'  I's 
pow'ful  feared  you-all  is  bit  off  more'n  you 
kin  chaw.  I  spec  lil'  Miss  an'  Miss  Dahlia 
gwine  git  mighty  lonesome  'fore  you-all  gits 
back." 

He  walked  away,  shaking  his  head  sadly. 

u  Aileen  says  tell  you  she  will  be  over  this 
afternoon,"  said  Keith,  turning  to  Marie. 
"  I  feel  so  much  happier  about  leaving  her, 
knowing  that  she  will  be  over  here  with  you. 
I  could  not  leave  her  there  at  '  Idlewild ' 
alone." 

"  And  I — I  have  nothing  to  leave,"  said 
Michael,  with  unusual  bitterness;  "no  one 
to  weep  for  me  if  I  should  fall." 

"Oh,  Michael!"  cried  Marie  in  a  hurt 
voice,  and  she  held  out  her  hands  to  him 
impulsively. 

Michael  raised  first  one  and  then  the  other 
to  his  lips. 

"  Where  is   Dahlia  ?  "   asked   Keith,   in  a 


A  Crucifix  and  a  Red  Ribbon         19 

cool,  changed  tone.  "  We  must  be  going,  and 
I  would  like  to  say  good-by  to  her." 

"Yes,"  added  Sydney  eagerly;  "we  can't 
go  without  seeing  Dahlia." 

So  Dahlia  was  summoned,  and  came  down 
with  her  face  red  and  swollen  from  crying. 

"How  grand  you  look!  "  she  cried,  with 
forced  gayety.  "  Oh,  those  beautiful  uni 
forms  !  Don't  I  wish  I  were  a  man  and 
could  go  fight,  too !  And  good  luck  to  you ! 
What  is  it  I  must  say — to  come  back  with 
your  shields,  or  on  them?"  She  laughed 
a  little  hysterically.  "  Anyway,  don't  dare  to 
come  home  until  you  have  whipped  every 
Yankee  on  the  continent,  individually  and  col 
lectively.  Good-by,  Keith — oh,  excuse  me !  I 
mean  Lieutenant  Cavanagh.  Good-by,  Mi 
chael." 

They  turned  from  her  to  Marie,  who  stood 
by,  white  and  silent. 

"  Take  care  of  Aileen  for  me,"  Keith  said 
to  her;  "  don't  let  her  grieve  for  us  too  much. 
Good-by."  He  held  her  hand  lingeringly, 
and  hesitated  as  though  there  was  something 


2O  When  the  Bugle  Called 

more  he  wanted  to  say;  but  finally,  looking 
very  grave,  he  went  down  the  steps  without 
another  word. 

Michael,  his  blue  eyes  misty  with  unshed 
tears,  whispered :  "  God  bless  you.  Pray 
for  us,  dear." 

Young  Elmore  had  drawn  Dahlia  to  one 
side,  and,  with  his  boyish  face  full  of  emo 
tion,  whispered  his  farewells. 

"  Dahlia,"  he  said,  clasping  her  small 
brown  hand  in  his,  "  I  am  going  away  to 
fight  for  the  South,  and  you.  I  may  never 
come  back.  Give  me  something  of  yours — 
some  little  token  to  carry  away  with  me." 

"What  shall  it  be?  "  asked  the  girl,  with 
a  nervous  laugh,  broken  by  a  sob.  "  A  rose?  " 

"A  rose  fades  so  soon,  Dahlia,"  he  ob 
jected.  "  Give  me  something  better."  He 
drew  her  closer  to  him.  "  Couldn't  you  give 
me  a  kiss,  sweetheart,  just  this  once?" 

Dahlia  drew  back  hastily.  "  No,  no,  Syd 
ney,  not  that !  "  she  cried.  "  Here,  you  shall 
have  this."  And  with  eager  fingers  she  un 
fastened  the  broad  red  ribbon  that  held  her 


A   Crucifix  and  a  Red  Ribbon         21 

thick,  dark  curls  in  place,  and  tied  it  around 
the  boy's  arm. 

'  There,  Sir  Knight,"  she  said,  "  you  shall 
wear  my  colors." 

"  And  I  will  protect  them  with  my  life," 
he  said  fervently.  "  I  will  be  your  knight  for 
ever  and  ever,  fair  lady.  Think  of  me  often, 
Dahlia,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Come  on,  Sydney;  we  are  waiting  for 
you,"  broke  in  Keith's  voice.  He  and  Mi 
chael  had  mounted  their  horses  and  were  hav 
ing  difficulty  in  curbing  the  restless,  fretting 
animals. 

"Good-by!  good-by!"  cried  Sydney,  and 
tearing  himself  away  from  Da'hlia,  he  ran 
hastily  down  the  steps. 

Then  the  three  young  patriots  rode  away 
together  into  the  sweet  spring  sunshine  to 
defend  the  land  they  loved  so  well. 

That  night  Dahlia,  dreaming  of  love  and 
war,  and  a  gray-clad  soldier  crowned  with 
glory,  who  laid  his  trophies  at  her  feet,  mur 
mured  his  name  continually  in  her  restless 
sleep. 


22  When  the  Bugle  Called 

To  Marie  it  was  the  bitterest  night  of  her 
whole  life.  She  knelt  long  by  her  open  win 
dow  in  an  agony  of  prayer  for  those  dear  to 
her,  and  asking  for  strength  to  walk  unfal 
teringly  in  whatever  path  the  good  God 
might  choose  for  her. 

"  Oh,  if  I  can  only  be  brave,  and  do  my 
duty  as  I  should !  "  she  cried,  putting  her 
hand  to  her  aching  throat.  Then  she  started 
to  her  feet  with  a  little  alarmed  cry.  Her 
crucifix  was  gone !  It  was  one  she  had  worn 
on  a  little  chain  around  her  neck  since  in 
fancy,  and  she  prized  it  more  than  anything 
she  possessed.  It  had  belonged  to  her  grand 
mother,  and  had  been  blessed  by  a  Pope. 
Marie  had  once  told  Keith  and  Michael  Cav- 
anagh  that  the  man  she  should  love  must 
wear  it  to  preserve  him  from  all  evil,  and 
Keith,  being  a  Presbyterian,  had  laughed. 
She  lit  her  candle  with  shaking  hands  and 
went  to  the  nursery  and  aroused  Mammy 
Cindy. 

"  Mammy,  I  have  lost  my  crucifix,"  she 
said;  "come  help  me  find  it." 


A  Crucifix  and  a  Red  Ribbon         23 

The  search  proved  fruitless,  as  the  crucifix 
could  not  be  found,  whereupon  the  old  ne- 
gress  shook  her  head,  sighing  dismally: 
"  Honey  chile,  yo'  mammy  sho'  do  hate  dat. 
Some'n  gwine  er  happen  ter  bring  yer  mis'ry. 
Dat  crucifix  wuz  lost  twict  befo'  you  wuz 
bawn'd,  an'  it  allers  brung  trouble." 


CHAPTER   II 
THREE  YEARS  LATER 

STRETCHED  on  the  dry  grass  behind  the 
office  were  five  small  people  in  earnest  con 
versation.  The  office — that  convenient  loung 
ing  and  smoking  den  for  the  men  of  all  old 
Southern  plantation  families — was  on  the  left 
of  the  house  at  "  Oakdale."  Behind  it  the 
grass  grew  thick,  while  shrubs  and  evergreen 
trees  screened  it  from  the  outside  world. 
Here  for  generations  Dupre  children,  with 
their  little  black  satellites,  had  gathered  for 
secret  conferences. 

"  I  heard  Marie  tell  Miss  Aileen  this 
morning  that  since  our  side  had  lost  that  last 
battle  there  was  nothing  to  keep  the  Yankees 
from  coming  right  on  down  through 
here,"  Elsie,  the  oldest  of  the  group,  was 
saying. 

"  De  Lawd  he'p !  Den  what  is  we-all 
24 


Three  Years  Later  25 

gwine  ter  do !  "  cried  Snowdrop,  in  a  voice 
of  great  alarm.  Snowdrop  was  Elsie's  own 
individual  property,  and  was  as  black  as  any 
thing  human  could  be.  "  What  is  we  gwine 
do,  Miss  Elsie?"  she  reiterated. 

"I  don't  know,  Snow;  nothing,  I  reckon. 
Father  De  Berne  told  Marie  not  to  worry, 
that  of  course  they  wouldn't  do  anything  to 
harm  women  and  children — that  they  aren't 
making  war  on  us." 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  Yankee,  Elsie?" 
asked  Dick,  in  an  awed  tone. 

"  Mammy  Cindy  say  she  seed  one  onct," 
essayed  Mose,  Snowdrop's  younger  brother 
and  the  constant  companion  of  Dick.  "  She 
say  dey  don't  look  lak  we-all's  white  folks, 
an'  dey  don't  talk  lak  'em,  nuther." 

"  Ranee  he  say  dey  hev  horns  an'  hufs  an' 
gret  long  tails,  wid  fire  shootin'  outen  dey 
eyes,"  put  in  the  youngest  of  the  group,  in  a 
whisper  of  delicious  horror. 

"  Aw,  go  'long,  Jink !  Ranee  wuz  er  talk- 
in'  erbout  de  debbil !  "  said  Snowdrop,  with 
an  air  of  great  superiority. 


26  When  the  Bugle  Called 

"Well,  ain't  Yankees  all  devils?"  in 
quired  Dick. 

"  For  shame,  Dick!  Of  course  not!  "  ex 
claimed  Elsie.  "  They  are  people  just  like 
we  are.  Father  De  Berne  said  so  at  Sunday- 
school  last  Sunday." 

"  Well,  dey  ain't  lak  we-all's  folks,"  ob 
jected  Snowdrop,  "  'cause  dey's  all  po'  white 
trash." 

"  Marie  says  she's  afraid  the  Yankees  will 
keep  Santa  Claus  from  coming,"  said  Dick 
sorrowfully. 

"  Oh,  well,  it's  three  weeks  until  Christ 
mas.  Maybe  our  folks  can  get  another  army 
and  whip  'em  before  then,"  answered  Elsie 
cheerfully.  "  I  hope  so,  anyway,  'cause  I  do 
want  a  new  dress  so  badly.  It  has  been  such 
a  long  time  since  I  had  one." 

"  And  I  want  a  wagon  and  a  gun,"  an 
swered  Dick. 

"  Is  Mars  Phil  comin'  home  dis  Crismus?  " 
inquired  Snowdrop. 

"  No,  nobody's  coming.  I  heard  Miss 
Aileen  and  Marie  talking  about  it  to-day. 


Three  Years  Later  27 

They  haven't  heard  from  Mr.  Keith  5n  a 
long  time — they're  'fraid  he  is  killed." 

"  Mammy  Cindy  say  he  sho'  is  kilt,  'caze 
Miss  Marie  ain't  nuver  foun'  her  crucifix,  an' 
de  udder  night  Mammy  she  see  er  ha'nt  in 
de  '  Idlewild  '  grove,  an'  she  say  hit's  er  sign 
he  sho'  is  dade." 

"Nonsense,  Snowdrop;  there  aren't  any 
such  things  as  ha'nts !  "  But  Elsie  looked  be 
hind  her  apprehensively  nevertheless. 

"  No  sich  things  ez  ha'nts  !  You  jes'  ax  ole 
Unc'  Eph'um — he  kin  tell  you  better'n  dat." 

While  these  important  matters  were  under 
discussion  behind  the  office,  Marie  and  Aileen 
were  seated  at  a  little  table  in  Marie's  room 
sewing.  Both  girls  wore  plain  homespun 
cotton  dresses,  and  the  faces  of  both  were 
pale  and  sad. 

u  When  was  your  last  letter  from  Michael 
dated,  Marie?  "  asked  Aileen,  lifting  her 
eyes  from  her  work  to  her  friend's  downcast 
face. 

"  Five  weeks  ago  yesterday." 

"  And  he  said  no  word  of  Keith?  " 


28  When  the  Bugle  Called 

"  Not  one." 

"  He  must  have  had  no  trace  of  him." 
Aileen's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  I  wonder 
where  Michael  is  now?  "  she  continued  sadly. 

Just  then  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door, 
and  Mammy  Cindy  entered  the  room,  a  note 
in  her  hand. 

"  Honey  chile,  h'yers  er  note  Ranee  gimme 
at  de  do' — he  say  young  Marster  sent  it  to 
you." 

With  a  feeling  of  apprehension,  Marie 
took  the  note  and  opened  it  hastily.  She  read 
it  with  Aileen  looking  over  her  shoulder. 

'  This  is  to  say  good-by  "  (the  note  ran). 
"  Ranee  and  I  are  off  to  join  the  army.  The 
South  needs  me.  I  am  doing  no  one  any 
good  at  home,  and  I  cannot  rest  any  longer 
without  striking  one  blow  to  repel  this  wicked 
invasion.  Don't  be  angry  with  me,  dear 
Marie,  for  you  know  I  can't  help  it — it  is  in 
the  blood.  Good-by  to  all — and  please  for 
give  me.  "  Your  brother, 

"  PHILIP  DUPRE,  JR." 


Three  Years  Later  29 

For  an  instant  Marie's  head  drooped  like 
a  wilting  flower. 

"  And  he  just  seventeen !  "  she  whispered. 
Then  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  gray  eyes 
flashing.  "  Oh,  the  South  must  win,  with 
such  souls  as  that  in  its  boys !  God  bless  him, 
and  nerve  his  arm  to  fight  for  his  native 
land!" 

Again  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and 
Mammy,  opening  it,  admitted  old  Jerry,  the 
overseer. 

"  Good-morning,  Uncle  Jerry!  "  exclaimed 
the  girls  pleasantly. 

"  Mornin',  HP  Miss;  mornin',  Miss 
Aileen."  . 

Then  the  old  man  stood  silently  looking 
from  one  sweet  face  to  the  other. 

"What's  the  matter,  Uncle  Jerry?" 
laughed  Aileen.  "  What  makes  you  look  at 
us  like  that?  " 

"  Hit's  dem  homespun  dresses,"  he  burst 
out  sorrowfully;  "  hit's  dem  homespun 
dresses.  Jerry  nuver  did  'spec  ter  see  de 
quality  dressed  lak  dat,  an'  it  hurts  his  feel- 


30  When  the  Bugle  Called 

in's.  Lil'  Miss,"  he  continued,  turning  to 
Marie,  "  I  h'yer  whisperin's  eroun'  an' 
erbout  dat  dem  Yankees  ain't  so  pow'ful 
fur  off,  an'  dey  mout  come  dis  way,  an'  I 
jes'  wants  ter  insult  wid  yer  'bout  whut  we 
gwine  ter  do." 

'  There  isn't  anything  we  can  do,  Uncle 
Jerry,  except  trust  in  the  Lord." 

"  Da's  all  ve'y  well,  honey,  but  de  Lawd 
spec's  ev'ybody  ter  do  some'n  ter  he'p  dey- 
selves  fus'.  Bar's  de  silver,  an'  de  jew'lry, 
an'  de  hosses,  an'  de  mules " 

"Uncle  Jerry!"  cried  Marie,  with  horri 
fied  face;  "  the  silver  and  the  jewelry!  What 
on  earth  are  you  talking  about?  You  don't 
suppose  for  an  instant  that  they  want  such 
things,  or  would  take  them  if  they  did?  Can't 
soldiers  be  gentlemen?" 

"  Yassum,  honey,  dey  kin;  but  you  see  hit's 
dis-er-way:  Soldiers  is  mos'  in  giner'lly  sol 
diers,  an'  Yankees  ain't  lak  we-all.  You  sho' 
better  listen  ter  ole  Jerry,  an'  hide  ev'ything 
you  wants  befo'  dey  gits  h'yer,  when  you 
h'yers  dey  is  comin'.  An'  be  mighty  keerful, 


Three  Years  Later  31 

lil'  Miss,  'caze  dar  is  some  niggers  on  dis 
place  dat  you  sho'  cyarn'  trus'." 

"  An'  dat's  de  Lawd's  trufe !  "  cried 
Mammy.  "  Bar's  dat  old  slue-foot  nigger, 
Ben — he  is  plum  crazy  'bout  dem  Yankees. 
Say  dey  gwine  mek  all  de  black  folks  free!. 
But  dar's  one  thing  sartin  an'  sho',  hit'll  tek 
more  dan  er  Yankee  army  ter  free  Mammy 
f 'um  her  chullen !  " 

"  Lil'  Miss,"  Jerry  continued,  "  I  jes'  want 
er  say  ef  you  needs  me  kinder  secret  lak,  you 
jes'  send  me  word  ter  come  an'  men'  de  side 
po'ch  steps,  an'  I'll  onderstan'.  Den  you  kin 
set  on  de  steps  an'  see  behine  my  back,  an'  I 
kin  see  onder  de  house  an'  behine  you,  so  we 
kin  insult  tergedder  an'  none  er  dem  sneakin' 
niggers  kin  h'yer  whut  we  say." 

"  That's  a  good  plan,  Uncle  Jerry,  but  I 
hope  we  won't  have  to  resort  to  it." 

"  Wall,  da's  all  fur  de  present.  Mawnin', 
lil'  Miss;  mawnin',  Miss  Aileen."  And 
Jerry  bowed  himself  out. 

In  silence  the  girls  went  back  to  their  sew 
ing.  They  had  ripped  up  an  old  silk  dress  of 


32  When  the  Bugle  Called 

Aileen's — all  Marie's  had  been  used  up  long 
ago — and  were  remaking  it  into  a  dress  for 
Elsie's  Christmas  gift.  Uncle  Jerry,  who 
had  great  skill  with  his  knife,  was  cutting 
Dick  a  gun  of  soft  white  pine,  and  would 
make  him  a  wagon,  and  that  would  be  the 
extent  of  his  "  Santa  Claus."  But  Marie 
consoled  herself  by  planning  a  delicious 
Christmas  dinner.  There  should  be  good 
things  in  abundance,  and  all  the  negroes  in 
the  quarters  should  feast,  too. 

"  What  a  sad  Christmas  it  will  be,"  sighed 
Aileen. 

"  Yes,  but  we  mustn't  be  sad.  At  that 
season  all  children  should  be  happy,  so  we 
must  be  cheerful  for  their  sakes.  They  are 
looking  forward  to  it  so !  Do  you  remember 
the  lovely  things  father  brought  them  the 
year  before  last?  How  full  of  hope  the 
South  was  then !  " 

"  There  is  no  chance  of  Colonel  Dupre 
getting  here  this  year,  is  there?  " 

"Oh,  no;  not  the  least!  He  is  with  Lee 
in  Virginia." 


Three  Years  Later  33 

Here  Mammy  Cindy  put  her  head  in  the 
door. 

"  Honey,"  she  said,  "  you  say  you  want  er 
see  Unc'  Eph'um  f'um  '  Huntin'don '  nex' 
time  he  come  over.  Well,  h'yer  he  is  at  de 
po'ch;  say  he  want  er  pass  de  time  er  day 
wid  you  an'  Miss  Aileen." 

"  Tell  him  we  are  coming  right  now,"  ex 
claimed  Marie  eagerly.  "  I  want  to  know 
if  they  have  had  a  letter  from  Sydney  re 
cently;  he  might  have  mentioned  Keith  and 
Michael." 

She  and  Aileen  put  down  their  sewing 
hastily  and  went  out  on  the  porch. 

"  Good-morning,  Uncle  Eph,"  said  both 
girls  cordially. 

"Howdy,  Mistiss;  howdy,  Miss  Aileen," 
responded  the  old  negro,  bowing  low,  hat  in 
hand. 

"  How  are  things  serving  you  these  days?  " 
Aileen  inquired,  with  one  of  her  brightest 
smiles. 

"  Things  sarve  old  Eph'um  sorter  good  an' 
sorter  bad,  Miss  Aileen;  but  da's  de  bes'  we 


34  When  the  Bugle  Called 

kin  'spec'  in  dis  worl',  honey.  Jordan  am 
er  hard  road  ter  trabel  sometimes." 

"  Uncle  Eph,  has  Mr.  Elmore  had  an 
other  letter  from  Sydney  lately?  "  asked 
Marie  anxiously. 

"  Naw,  honey,  he  ain't.  Hit's  been  er 
long  time  sence  ole  Marster  h'yered  a  word; 
an'  dar  he  sets,  er  honin'  an'  er  griebin'  till 
hit  jes'  looks  lak  he  cyarn'  las'  much  longer. 
I  dunno  how  come  Mars  Syd  wuz  so  sot  on 
gwine  ter  dis  war!  "  he  broke  out  after  a 
few  minutes'  silence.  "  An'  him  all  de  chile 
his  paw's  got,  too.  I  tole  ole  Marster  dat 
Mars  Syd  wuzn't  nothin'  but  er  chile,  an' 
dat  he  oughter  kep'  him  home,  an'  ole  Mar 
ster  up  an'  cussed  me  out,  an'  say  he'd  er 
disowned  Mars  Syd  ef  he  hadn't  er  went." 

Marie  had  so  hoped  to  hear  news  through 
the  Elmores  that  she  stood  by,  silent  and 
downcast  at  the  disappointment. 

"And  how  is  Aunt  Judy  these  days?" 
asked  Aileen,  anxious  to  divert  Marie's  mind 
to  something  more  cheerful.  "  It  has  been  a 
long  time  since  I  have  seen  her." 


Three  Years  Later  35 

Ephraim  looked  up  at  the  girl  from  under 
his  shaggy  gray  brows,  a  very  lugubrious  ex 
pression  settling  on  his  face. 

"  Ain't  you  h'yerd  'bout  mah  b'reavement, 
Missy?  Judy  wuz  tuk  erbout  two  mont  ergo. 
Yas,  honey,  de  Lawd  tuk  'er  an'  lef  de  ole 
man  by  hisse'f  ergin."  He  brushed  his  sleeve 
across  his  eyes,  and  a  sob  choked  him.  "  I's 
nigh  onter  eighty  ye'rs  ole,  an'  Judy  am  de 
fo'th  wife  what's  left  me." 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Eph,  I'm  so  sorry !  "  cried 
both  girls  in  a  breath,  deep  sympathy  showing 
in  their  faces. 

"  Yassum,  hit  wuz  mighty  bad."  Here  the 
ole  fellow's  face  wrinkled  up  into  smiles 
again,  and  he  tried  to  straighten  his  bent  back. 

"  But  de  good  Lawd  in  his  mussy  hev  seen 
fit  ter  smile  ernother  blessin'  on  me.  I's  got 
Big  Nancy  fer  er  wife  now.  You  knows  ole 
Aun'  Big  Nancy — she  kin  fry  de  bes'  bacon 
an'  mek  de  goodes'  hoe-cake!  Hit's  jes'  so 
good  tell  hit  mos'  melt  in  yo'  mouf." 

The  laugh  with  which  Marie  and  Aileen 
greeted  this  was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of 


36  When  the  Bugle  Called 

galloping  hoofs  coming  up  the  driveway. 
The  rider  was  Dahlia,  on  her  bay  mare,  Lady 
Jane,  and  she  was  riding  like  a  wild  thing, 
her  hair  streaming  and  her  skirts  flying.  She 
waved  her  cap  at  them,  her  face  flushed  with 
excitement. 

"  The  Yankees!  "  she  cried.     "  The  Yan 
kees  rode  into  Fairview  this  morning !  " 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  PREPARATION 

AT  Dahlia's  news  the  hearts  of  both  girls 
seemed  to  stand  still.  What  they  had  so 
dreaded  was  at  last  at  hand — the  foot  of  the 
invader  was  upon  the  hearthstone  of  the 
South.  While  they  never  contemplated  the 
thought  of  violence  of  any  kind  from  the 
troops,  still  the  idea  of  coming  into  direct 
personal  contact  with  Northern  soldiers  was 
intensely  repugnant  to  them. 

If  some  of  the  men  were  only  at  home ! 
When  they  had  ridden  away,  so  full  of  hope, 
with  such  bright  promise  for  the  future,  there 
had  been  no  fear  that  a  foreign  foot  would 
ever  tread  in  enmity  on  Southern  soil;  they 
had  left  their  women  and  children  and  slaves 
behind  in  perfect  confidence  that  all  would  be 
well  with  them.  And  now  the  invading  army 
had  spread,  with  fire  and  sword,  over  the 

37 


38  When  the  Bugle  Called 

length  and  breadth  of  the  shuddering  land, 
leaving  in  its  trail  a  disease  new  to  the  South 
— the  Black  Plague. 

"  What  shall  we  do — oh,  what  shall  we 
do !  "  cried  Aileen,  white  to  the  lips,  while 
Marie  seemed  deprived  of  the  power  of 
speech. 

"  I  passed  Father  De  Berne  on  the  road," 
said  Dahlia,  as  she  came  up  the  steps.  "  He 
will  soon  be  here;  maybe  he  can  help  us." 

"  How  good  of  him  to  remember  us !  " 
Aileen  exclaimed,  her  face  brightening. 

A  few  minutes  later  they  saw  the  reverend 
father  approaching,  walking  hurriedly,  his 
white  head  bare,  for  in  his  haste  he  had  for 
gotten  his  hat.  Marie  felt  intense  relief  at 
sight  of  him,  for  here  at  last  was  a  friend 
whose  advice  she  could  trust  implicitly — one 
who  was  indeed  a  shepherd  to  his  flock,  to 
whom  none  appealed  in  vain  for  counsel  and 
sympathy.  For  forty  years  Father  De  Berne 
had  lived  and  labored  in  the  village  of  El- 
lersly  and  the  surrounding  country.  The  lit 
tle  church  of  St.  Cecelia — so  dear  to  the 


The  Preparation  39 

hearts  of  all — had  been  built  under  his  super 
vision — a  memorial  to  his  faithful  service,  as 
his  people  loved  to  say.  But  a  more  lasting 
memorial  would  be  the  remembrance  of  the 
beautiful,  selfless  life  he  lived  among  his  peo 
ple. 

An  hour  later  Dahlia  drove  him  home. 
He  left  Marie  and  Aileen  in  a  measure  com 
forted,  but  at  the  same  time  he  made  them 
understand  something  of  the  conduct  to  be 
expected  from  an  invading  army.  He  had 
heard  many  reports  and  rumors  from  other 
districts,  and  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  prepare 
these  helpless  girls  for  what  lay  before  them. 
As  yet  none  of  the  horror  of  war  had  reached 
them — only  its  sorrow. 

Quietly,  with  as  much  secrecy  as  possible, 
they  began  collecting  and  packing  the  silver 
at  "  Oakdale  "  and  "  Idlewild."  There  was 
also  a  little  money  in  gold  and  the  family 
jewels  to  be  hidden.  In  the  afternoon  old 
Jerry  received  a  message  that  the  side-porch 
steps  needed  mending.  Answering  the  sum 
mons  immediately,  he  found  Marie  seated  in 


40  When  the  Bugle  Called' 

the  warm  sunshine,  a  piece  of  sewing  in  her 
hands.  Between  hammerings  and  sawings 
and  remarks  upon  the  weather  and  the  crops 
of  the  past  season,  they  decided  where  things 
should  be  hidden.  The  chest  of  silver  was 
to  be  placed  on  the  office  floor,  covered  with 
field  peas,  and  the  door  left  innocently  open; 
the  money  to  be  put  in  a  stone  jar  and  buried 
in  the  hen-house  under  a  sitting  hen,  and 
ashes  sifted  over  the  ground  to  hide  the  foot 
prints. 

Each  girl  should  hide  her  own  spe 
cially  valued  jewelry  as  best  she  could.  At 
Jerry's  earnest  request,  Marie  allowed  him 
to  remove  some  of  the  ceiling  in  the  attic  and 
place  some  sides  of  bacon  in  there;  so,  if  the 
worst  of  the  reports  were  true,  they  would  at 
least  have  something  to  eat. 

Jerry  reported  the  negroes  at  the  quarters 
in  a  state  of  great  excitement.  They  had 
all  quit  work,  and  some  of  them  had  left 
and  gone  to  join  the  Federal  troops  at  Fair- 
view. 

The  prevailing  excitement,   mingled  with 


The  Preparation  41 

a  much  greater  degree  of  fear,  had  reached 
Elsie  and  her  dusky  following,  and  there  were 
several  conferences  held  on  the  grass  behind 
the  office.  At  the  last  of  these — a  regular 
council  of  war,  held  just  before  sundown — 
Jink  was  excluded  as  being  too  young  and  in 
experienced  to  trust.  He,  however,  crept 
into  the  office  and,  vowing  vengeance  in  his 
heart,  concealed  himself  underneath  a  win 
dow  and  overheard  everything  that  took 
place.  And  still  in  his  place  of  hiding,  as 
the  early  December  twilight  settled  over  the 
scene,  he  saw  a  silent  procession  stealing  into 
the  secluded  grass  plot  from  the  direction  of 
the  "  big  house." 

Snowdrop  and  Elsie  were  carrying  a  big 
wooden  box,  and  Mose  and  Dick  had  spades, 
with  which  they  began  to  dig  in  feverish 
haste.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  until  the  box 
was  safely  covered  up  in  the  ground  and  the 
earth  trampled  down  on  it. 

"  Dar  now !  "  remarked  Snowdrop  in  a 
sepulchral  whisper;  "  now  we  done  got  erhaid 
er  dem  ole  Yankees!  " 


42  When  the  Bugle  Called 

"  Humph !  "  grunted  Jink  to  himself  in 
his  hiding  place,  "  I  dunno  so  much  erbout 
dat." 

"  S'pose  the  Yankees  don't  come,  after 
all,"  said  Elsie,  a  trifle  regretfully. 

"  Oh,  dey's  gwine  er  come,  sho',"  Snow 
drop  answered  decidedly;  "  'caze  Mose  he 
h'yerd  Sluefoot  Ben  an'  ole  Bal'haid  Jim  er 
talkin'  behind  de  smoke-house — didn't  you, 
Mose?" 

"  I  sho'  did;  an'  I  h'yerd  Sluefoot  say  he 
gwine  tell  dem  Yankees  'bout  dis  place,  an' 
dat  we-all's  folks  hed  guns  an'  powder  an' 
shot  hid  out  h'yer,  an'  dat  would  sho'  fetch 
'em;  an'  den  ole  Bal'haid  he  up  an'  say  he 
gwine  tell  'em  whut  rich  folks  we  wuz." 

"  I  can't  see  what  makes  them  so  mean," 
cried  Elsie  indignantly;  "  father  always  was 
just  as  good  to  them  as  he  could  be." 

"  Oh,  dey's  jes'  nachully  mean  niggers. 
Mammy  Cindy  she  say  dar's  some  niggers 
got  nigger  souls  an'  some  niggers  got  white 
souls,"  explained  Snowdrop. 

"  Den  dat  ole  Sluefoot  an'  Bal'haid  is  got 


The  Preparation  43 

souls  ez  black  ez  de  pot,"  put  in  Mose  vin 
dictively. 

"  We  had  better  be  going,  Snow,"  Elsie 
suggested;  "  it  isn't  wise  to  hang  around  here 
too  much.  Somebody  might  suspect  some 
thing." 

So  the  four  filed  home  as  stealthily  as  In 
dians,  leaving  behind  them  a  small  African 
wondering  uneasily  whether  his  soul  was 
white  or  black. 

"  Well,  dey  didn't  hev  no  business  ter 
treat  me  lak  dat,  no  way,"  he  argued  with 
himself;  "dey  sho'  done  me  er  mean  trick. 
Dar  wuz  some'n  I  could  er  put  in  dat  box  ef 
I  had  jes'  been  dar  wid  'em.  I  don't  keer  ef 
mah  soul  is  black!  " 

That  night  no  one  slept  at  "  Oakdale " 
"  big  house "  but  the  children,  and  their 
dreams  were  filled  with  Yankees  seven  feet 
high,  who  stalked  around  with  drawn  swords 
dripping  with  blood. 

Just  as  the  early  dawn  streaked  the  east 
with  its  first  faint  gray,  Marie  and  Aileen  lay 
down  to  try  to  rest,  while  Mammy  Cindy 


44  When  the  Bugle  Called 

dozed  before  the  nursery  fire.  Down  in  the 
orchard  a  strange  trio  was  making  its  way 
across  the  creek  and  on  toward  the  dense 
swamp  that  lay  beyond  the  cottonfields. 

It  was  Dahlia,  wrapped  in  a  long  black 
cloak,  leading  by  the  bridle  her  favorite  mare, 
Lady  Jane.  A  negro  boy  of  about  fifteen  sat 
on  the  horse's  back,  a  tin  bucket  swung  on 
his  arm.  He  was  a  queer,  deformed  creature, 
with  an  enormous  head  and  great,  wide- 
standing  ears.  His  body  seemed  shrunken, 
but  his  legs  were  unusually  long  and  his  feet 
huge  and  flat.  He  was  generally  considered 
to  be  half-witted,  but  Dahlia,  to  whom  he 
belonged,  often  declared  that  he  had  more 
sense  than  most  people.  She  was  always  kind 
to  him,  and  defended  him  from  ridicule,  and 
he  worshiped  her  with  the  faithfulness  of 
a  dog. 

"  Now,  Caesar,"  Dahlia  was  saying,  "  keep 
Lady  Jane  there  in  the  swamp  all  day;  keep 
her  as  quiet  as  you  can,  and  to-night  I  will 
bring  you  more  food.  If  we  can  just  keep 
the  Yankees  from  finding  her!  " 


The  Preparation  45 

"  Caesar  ain'  gwine  let  nobody  tech  Lady 
Jane,  Missy.  Caesar  fight  fus'.  Don'  you 
worry  'bout  yo'  hoss,  111'  Miss  Honey,  'caze 
Caesar  gwine  tek  good  keer  er  'er." 

"  I  know  you  will,  Caesar;  I  knew  I  could 
trust  you." 

She  left  them  safely  hidden  in  the  densest 
part  of  the  swamp,  and  hurried  back  home 
just  as  the  sun  was  rising.  On  the  portico 
she  stood  and  looked  around  her  at  the  sweet, 
peaceful  scene;  the  lawn,  the  rose  garden, 
the  whole  world,  seemed  fresh  and  dew-cov 
ered,  and  in  the  orange  trees  near  the  steps  a 
mocking-bird  was  pouring  its  soul  into  a  glori 
ous  morning  song  of  praise  to  God. 

"Could  anywhere  be  more  beautiful?" 
thought  the  girl,  her  face  raised  to  the  crisp 
winds.  She  stretched  her  arms  wide,  with  a 
pretty,  impulsive  gesture.  "  How  I  love  it — 
love  it!  "  she  cried,  her  eyes  shining. 

True  daughter  of  the  South  she  looked, 
with  her  great  dark  eyes  and  clear  olive  skin, 
her  black  curls  blowing  about  her  face  like  a 
veil.  For  a  long  time  she  stood  steeping  her 


46  When  the  Bugle  Called 

soul  in  the  beauty  of  the  scene,  her  thoughts 
very  far  away. 

A  sharp  noise  out  in  front  brought  her 
mind  suddenly  from  dreams  to  reality.  Rid 
ing  up  toward  her  was  a  small  squad  of  blue- 
coated  horsemen,  and  slinking  in  their  rear 
she  recognized  Sluefoot  Ben.  She  drew  her 
small  childish  figure  up  to  its  full  height  and 
waited  for  them  at  the  head  of  the  steps. 


CHAPTER   IV 
THE  YANKEES 

"  GOOD-MORNING,  sissy !  "  said  the  leader 
of  the  squad  of  soldiers,  lifting  his  cap  with 
mock  civility.  He  was  accoutered  in  a  cor 
poral's  uniform,  and  his  face  was  of  a  coarse, 
disagreeable  cast. 

"  Is  your  maw  at  home,  sissy?  Run,  tell 
her  she  has  company  to  breakfast,  and  be 
sure  to  tell  her  to  have  an  extra  good  one, 
for  we  are  gentlemen  what  can  appreciate  it." 

A  hearty  laugh  from  his  companions 
greeted  this  sally,  but  Dahlia  made  no  re 
sponse  whatever. 

"  Humph !  the  little  gal  must  be  deaf,"  re 
marked  the  corporal.  He  gave  a  few  orders 
to  his  men,  who  dispersed  and  surrounded 
the  house,  while  he,  with  one  other  soldier, 
started  up  the  steps. 

"  Wait!  "  exclaimed  Dahlia,  suddenly  find- 
47 


48  When  the  Bugle  Called 

ing  her  voice.  "  What  are  you  coming  in 
for?" 

"  Why,  for  breakfast,  of  course." 

;<  Then  wait  outside,  please,  for  breakfast 
isn't  ready  yet,  and  no  one  in  the  house  is 
awake.  I'll  bring  you  chairs." 

She  ran  in  the  hall  and  dragged  out  two 
chairs  for  them. 

"  Have  seats,  won't  you  ?  "  she  said  cour 
teously;  "  and  I  will  go  speak  to  the  cook 
about  breakfast." 

Winking  at  each  other  significantly,  they 
sat  down,  while  Dahlia  dashed  up  the  stairs, 
two  steps  at  a  time,  to  Marie's  room.  No 
^ooner  was  her  back  turned  than  they  both 
got  up  and  slipped  into  the  hall,  just  as  two 
of  those  who  had  gone  around  the  house 
came  in  through  the  back  door  They  took 
the  lower  floor  room  by  room,  searching 
every  corner,  every  closet,  and  every  drawer. 
As  they  went  up  the  stairs  to  the  room  above 
they  were  joined  by  two  more  soldiers,  and 
the  six  of  them  stalked  boldly  up  into  an 
empty  hall.  A  door  on  their  right  opened 


The  Yankees  49 

suddenly,   and  Dahlia   stepped  before  them, 
her  face  pale,  but  her  eyes  very  bright. 

'  You  gentlemen  have  made  a  mistake," 
she  said,   in  a  voice  that  trembled  slightly. 
'  The  dining-room  is  downstairs,  and  break 
fast  isn't  ready  yet." 

Without  replying,  they  pushed  by  her 
rudely  and  flung  open  the  door  of  the  room 
she  had  just  quitted.  In  it  Marie  stood, 
fastening  hastily  the  dress  she  had  just  slipped 
into. 

"  May  I  ask  why  you  are  intruding  in  this 
manner  into  a  lady's  bedroom?"  she  de 
manded  in  a  high,  clear  tone. 

"  We  have  orders  to  search  this  house, 
madam,"  answered  the  corporal,  suiting  the 
action  to  the  word. 

"  But  why — why  is  it  necessary?  "  Marie 
began. 

"  We  have  been  informed  that  you  have 
arms  and  ammunition  hidden  here,  and  it  is 
our  duty  to  find  them.  And  the  least  trouble 
you  give  us,  the  better." 

"  Marie !  oh,  Marie !  "  cried  Aileen,  run- 


50  When  the  Bugle  Called 

ning  into  the  room  with  white,  scared  face, 
"  the  yard  is  full  of  Yankees !  " 

With  a  muttered  curse  the  corporal  went 
to  the  window.  It  was  true;  the  whole  place 
was  swarming  with  bluecoats.  In  frenzied 
haste  he  returned  to  his  search,  but  found 
nothing,  and  a  few  minutes  later  he  and  his 
men  left  the  room  in  a  very  ugly  mood. 

"  Oh,  Marie,  how  can  we  live  through 
this?  "  cried  Aileen,  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"Hush!"  whispered  Marie  warningly; 
"  here  come  the  children.  Why,  Elsie,  what 
are  you  afraid  of?  The  soldiers  aren't  going 
to  hurt  us." 

"  Dat  dey  ain't!"  cried  Mammy  Cindy 
belligerently.  "  Dey'd  sho'  hev  ter  kill  Cindy 
fus'.  Now  I'd  jes'  lak  ter  know  whut  you- 
all  wants  in  h'yer?"  she  exclaimed,  as  the 
door  opened  and  a  crowd  of  soldiers  pushed 
into  the  room. 

"  We  must  search  this  room,  madam," 
said  one  of  them,  who  seemed  to  be  the 
leader. 

"  It   has   been    searched   already,    as   you 


The  Yankees  51 

may  see  for  yourselves,"  said  Marie  indig 
nantly. 

But  in  spite  of  protests  they  went  through 
trunk,  wardrobe,  bureau,  closet — everything 
in  the  room — -but  they  found  only  Marie's 
dainty,  threadbare  underclothes  and  patched 
homespun  dresses.  These  they  tore  from 
neck  to  hem  and  threw  aside.  The  girls  fol 
lowed  them  from  room  to  room  and  watched 
them  destroying  like  vandals  everything  that 
could  be  of  no  use  to  them. 

In  Colonel  Dupre's  room  they  lingered 
longest.  They  ransacked  it  thoroughly,  as 
they  supposed,  and  were  leaving  it,  when  a 
spur  on  the  heel  of  one  of  the  soldiers  caught 
in  the  fringe  of  a  faded  tapestry  hanging  on 
the  wall  and  dragged  it  to  the  floor,  leaving 
exposed  to  view  a  door  hitherto  unseen.  With 
a  sharp  cry,  Marie  threw  herself  in  front  of 
it  with  arms  outstretched. 

"  No,  no !  "  she  cried  piteously,  "  not  in 
here !  Leave  this  one  room  alone.  There  is 
nothing  in  here  that  you  would  have — noth- 
ing!" 


52  When  the  Bugle  Called 

For  an  instant  the  soldiers  stood  irresolute; 
then  one  of  them  stepped  forward. 

"  Madam,  we  must  obey  orders.  Please 
stand  aside;  don't  compel  me  to  use  force." 

"  There  is  nothing  here  of  value  to  you — 
no  arms  nor  ammunition,  I  swear  it,"  she 
said,  her  gray  eyes  appealing  to  him.  "  It  is 
my  mother's  boudoir,  just  as  she  left  it,  and 
— and  she  is  dead." 

But  it  was  all  in  vain,  for  presently  they 
forced  her  aside  and  broke  open  the  door, 
but  on  the  threshold  they  hesitated.  It  was 
a  sunny  little  room,  with  writing-desk  and 
book-shelves;  in  the  center  stood  a  wicker 
work-table,  and  on  it  a  baby's  unfinished  long 
dress,  the  needle  sticking  in  it  as  it  had  been 
put  down  by  dear,  dead  hands.  Hanging 
over  the  fireplace  was  a  beautiful  painting  of 
the  Sistine  Madonna,  whose  tender  eyes 
seemed  to  look  down  reproachfully  upon  the 
scene  below.  A  big  Irishman  with  sergeant's 
stripes  on  his  sleeves  elbowed  his  way  to  the 
front,  and  turning  toward  the  hesitating  sol 
diers,  drew  his  revolver. 


The   Yankees  53 

'  The  fir-r-st  man  who  comes  in  here,"  he 
declared  in  his  rich  brogue,  "  will  hear  some- 
thin'  from  Dinnis  Malone.  Stand  back,  me 
friends,  and  clear  out.  You  an'  me  knows 
about  thim  orders.  Ye  wouldn't  desecrate 
the  mim'ry  av  the  gur-r-ls'  dead  mother,  wid 
the  Blessed  Mother  herself  lookin'  on,  now, 
would  ye,  men?"  he  continued  persuasively. 
And  seeing  there  could  be  very  little  of  real 
value  within,  they  allowed  themselves  to  be 
persuaded,  and  turned  away. 

Dahlia,  on  going  downstairs  from  Marie's 
room,  found  the  yard  full  of  soldiers  and 
negroes.  Everywhere  was  confusion,  loud 
talking,  often  cursing,  and  constant  passing 
back  and  forth.  Suddenly  a  thought  struck 
her,  and  she  ran  back  to  the  kitchen  and  out 
into  the  yard  as  if  she  had  wings  to  her  feet. 
She  had  remembered  a  storehouse  where 
were  kept  wines  and  homemade  cordials.  So 
far  it  had  been  overlooked  by  the  soldiers, 
but  she  shuddered  to  think  what  intoxication 
would  add  to  such  a  scene.  In  haste  she  un 
locked  the  door,  and  with  trembling  hands 


54  When  the  Bugle  Called 

overturned  every  demijohn  and  broke  every 
bottle.  Soon  the  air  was  filled  with  pungent 
odors,  and  Dahlia's  cotton  gown  and  thin 
shoes  were  saturated  with  the  liquid.  She 
tried  to  slip  away  unseen,  as  she  had  come, 
but  the  spicy  smell  had  attracted  some  of  the 
stragglers,  and  she  stepped  out  into  their 
midst. 

"  Now  what  deviltry  have  you  been  up 
to?  "  cried  one,  seeing  her  wet  garments. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  ain't  that  a  damned  shame, 
boys !  "  exclaimed  another,  peering  in  at  the 
open  door  at  the  overturned  demijohns.  The 
others  crowded  around  him,  bemoaning  the 
lost  liquor,  and  Dahlia,  taking  advantage  of 
their  backs,  slipped  away  to  change  her 
clothes.  But  alas!  not  one  whole  garment 
was  to  be  found,  so  she  was  doomed  to  carry 
about  with  her  the  evidences  of  her  fore 
thought. 

Coming  upon  Elsie  and  Dick  huddled  in 
a  corner  crying  with  fright  and  hunger,  she 
took  them  in  charge,  and  the  three  went 
back  downstairs  in  search  of  some  breakfast. 


The  Yankees  55 

They  found  fat  Lucy  alternately  sobbing  and 
praying,  but  cooking  as  fast  as  it  could  pos 
sibly  be  done,  for  a  big  soldier  lolled  com 
fortably  in  the  window,  a  revolver  held  negli 
gently  across  his  knee,  and  he  continually 
urged  Lucy  to  renewed  efforts.  A  squad  of 
bluecoats  removed  the  breakfast  as  fast  as 
it  was  cooked  and  distributed  it  among  those 
waiting  outside. 

"  Dar's  mah  blessed  HI'  lambs  now,  comin' 
to  see  whar  is  dey  bre'kfus',"  and  old  Lucy 
began  sobbing  afresh.  "  I  jes'  knows  you  is 
mos'  starved.  Ca'line,  you  yaller  hussy,  dat 
ve'y  nex'  plate  er  waffles  is  fer  dese  po'  starv- 
in'  chullen  !  I  ain't  er-gwine  ter  cook  fer  po' 
white  trash  an'  de  quality  standin'  by  hon- 


A  flourish  of  the  convenient  weapon  re 
duced  yellow  Caroline  to  immediate  submis 
sion,  but  Lucy  was  past  control. 

"  Oh,  you  kin  shoot  an'  shoot  all  you's  er 
mine  ter,  but  I  ain't  gwine  er  cook  ernother 
lick  till  dese  chullen  gits  dey  bre'kfus',  an' 
you  h'yer  dat  !  You  kin  kill  me  ef  you  wants 


56  When  the  Bugle  Called 

ter,  but  whar  you  gwine  ter  git  ernuther  cook 
lak  ole  Lucy  ?  " 

This  was  a  convincing  argument,  so  Dah 
lia,  Elsie,  and  Dick  got  enough  breakfast  to 
keep  them  from  going  hungry.  Passing 
through  the  pantry  on  their  way  back  to  the 
house,  they  saw  a  red-faced  German  in  the 
act  of  turning  a  big  pan  of  cream  up  to  his 
mouth. 

"Poison!"  cried  Dahlia  mischievously. 
The  pan  dropped  with  a  crash,  splashing  the 
beloved  blue  uniform  from  top  to  toe.  A 
coarse  laugh  greeted  the  mishap,  and  one  of 
the  men  turned  to  look  at  Dahlia  with  an 
admiring  glance.  Catching  sight  of  her 
stained  garments,  he  sprang  forward  with  an 
oath. 

"  Here,  boys,"  he  cried  brutally;  "  it's  the 
little  damned  rebel  that  overturned  the  demi 
johns!"  In  an  instant  he  had  his  pistol 
pressed  against  her  forehead.  "  Now,"  he 
continued,  with  a  string  of  oaths,  "  I  guess 
we'll  teach  you  better  next  time." 

Quick  as  a  flash  Dahlia  reached  down  in 


The  Yankees  57 

the  pocket  of  her  homespun  gown  and  pulled 
out  a  small  silver-mounted  revolver;  but  the 
red-faced  German  knocked  her  arm  up,  and 
it  discharged  in  the  air. 

"Here!  what  does  this  mean?"  cried  a 
commanding  voice  at  the  door,  and  a  young 
man  in  the  uniform  of  a  lieutenant  hurried 
into  the  room.  "What  is  this,  Fritz:  bully 
ing  a  lady?  I'm  surprised  at  you!  Smith, 
put  up  that  pistol  instantly !  Corporal,  place 
both  these  men  under  arrest." 


CHAPTER   V 

NEWS  OF   KEITH 

"  PLEASE,  sir,  marster,  is  yer  foun'  any- 
thin' yit?" 

Sergeant  Dennis  Malone  looked  down  at 
the  speaker,  a  diminutive  darky,  as  black  as 
ink,  with  a  start  of  surprise. 

"Phat's  that  ye'r  sayin'?" 

"Is  yer  foun'  anythin'  yer  wants?"  the 
little  negro  repeated.  "  'Caze  ef  yer  ain't, 
I  kin  tell  yer  whar  dar's  er  whole  box  full 
of  things,  'caze  I  seed  'em  when  dey  buried 
it." 

At  this  information  several  bystanders 
crowded  around  in  intense  interest,  for  as  yet 
they  had  run  across  nothing  of  any  real  value. 

"Hear!  hear!  Malone,  tell  the  little  nig 
to  lead  the  way,"  cried  several  voices. 

"Where  is  the  box,  me  b'y?  Come  along 
and  show  us." 

The  small  son  of  Africa  hesitated. 
58 


News  of  Keith  59 

"  What  you  gwine  er  gimme  ef  I  shows 
yer?  " 

"  Ah !  So  you're  not  betrayin'  yer  frinds 
fer  love  av  yer  inemies,"  laughed  Malone. 
"  Well,  here  is  twinty-five  cints  fer  ye." 

So  Jink  led  the  way  to  the  grassplot  be 
hind  the  office  and  showed  the  soldiers  where 
the  earth  had  been  turned  up  and  trampled 
down  again.  In  growing  excitement  Dennis 
called  for  a  spade  and  began  to  dig,  his  com 
rades  making  many  bets  and  jests  as  to  what 
he  would  find.  When  the  wooden  box  was 
disclosed  there  were  a  few  cheers,  which  the 
big  Irishman  quickly  silenced. 

"  Do  ye  want  to  divide  with  the  whole 
army  that  ye  are  shoutin'  for  'em  all  to 
come?  "  he  cried  angrily.  "  And  git  out  of 
the  way,"  impatiently  shoving  away  with  his 
elbows  the  men  who  pressed  eagerly  around. 
"  How  can  I  do  anything  without  room  to 
move  me  arms !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  exaspera 
tion. 

"  Well,  hurry  up,  Denny  lad,  you're  too 
mortal  slow !  " 


60  When  the  Bugle  Called 

With  a  jerk  Malone  pulled  off  the  lid,  and 
with  bated  breath  the  soldiers  leaned  over 
and  peered  within.  For  an  instant  there  was 
perfect  silence,  then  began  a  string  of  curses 
loud  and  deep. 

"  Where  is  that  doggoned  little  black 
ape?"  cried  one  wrathfully;  and  snatching 
the  unfortunate  betrayer  by  the  back  of  his 
neck,  he  shook  him  until  his  teeth  chattered, 
and  with  cuffs  and  kicks  they  sent  him  howl 
ing  in  the  direction  of  the  quarters.  As  for 
Dennis  Malone,  he  sat  on  the  grass  silently 
staring  at  the  treasures  in  the  box.  There 
were  the  remains  of  what  had  once  been  a 
beautiful  doll,  arrayed  in  faded  finery;  a  big 
rag  baby,  a  stuffed  rabbit,  and  two  worn  story 
books.  Two  battered  tin  soldiers  kept  guard 
on  top  with  a  little  woolly  dog. 

Malone  drew  his  blue  coat  sleeve  across 
his  eyes,  and  carefully  replaced  the  lid. 

"  Here,  boys,  come  help  me  put  this  back 
where  we  found  it,"  he  said,  "  and  the  man 
that  troubles  one  thing  in  it  will  have  to  fight 
Dennis  Malone." 


News  of  Keith  61 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day 
Marie  and  Aileen  sat  in  the  desolated  library, 
worn  out  in  body  and  mind.  Most  of  the 
book  shelves  were  empty,  for  the  soldiers  in 
a  spirit  of  vandalism  had  taken  the  books — 
the  prized  collection  of  many  generations  of 
Dupres — and  piling  them  in  the  yard  had 
poured  soft  soap  over  them.  A  soldier  pass 
ing  through  the  room,  his  arms  full  of 
volumes,  bowed  low  to  the  two  girls. 

"  You  see,  lady,  that  I  am  of  a  literary 
turn,"  he  said  grandly. 

"  I  see  that  you  are  of  a  roguish  turn !  " 
exclaimed  Aileen  indignantly,  her  blue  eyes 
sparkling  with  anger. 

"  Oh,  Marie,"  she  continued,  as  the  man 
strode  on  with  his  booty,  "  did  you  see  the 
fate  of  your  flock  of  turkeys?  Two  soldiers 
drove  them  through  a  gate  while  a  third  be 
headed  them  with  a  sword  as  they  came 
through." 

"My  poor,  poor  Christmas  dinner!"  la 
mented  Marie.  "  I  don't  see  where  we  are 
to  get  even  the  bare  necessities." 


62  When  the  Bugle  Called 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened  and  the 
young  lieutenant  who  had  rescued  Dahlia, 
entered  the  room,  a  small  silver  box  under 
his  arm. 

"  Is  this  Miss  Cavanagh?  "  he  asked  in  a 
pleasant,  well-bred  voice,  addressing  Aileen. 

He  was  very  handsome,  and  his  manner 
prepossessing,  but  Aileen  held  her  head 
haughtily  and  regarded  him  with  a  cold  stare. 

"  I  am  Lieutenant  Anderson,"  he  con 
tinued.  "  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  save 
your  jewel  box  just  now — it  has  your  name 
on  it.  I  was  sure  I  could  not  be  mistaken, 
you  are  so  very  much  like  your  brother,  in 
spite  of  the  difference  in  coloring." 

"My  brother!"  cried  Aileen,  springing 
to  her  feet.  "  Oh,  do  you  know  him?  Have 
you  seen  him?  Can  you  tell  me  if  he  is 
alive?" 

"  Very  much  alive,"  laughed  the  lieuten 
ant,  "  though  still  in  the  hospital.  He  was 
desperately  wounded,  you  know,  and  taken 
prisoner  some  months  ago.  He  is  my  -sister 
Katharine's  special  charge.  We  have  at  last 


News  of  Keith  63 

succeeded  in  arranging  an  exchange  for  him, 
as  soon  as  he  is  strong  enough  to  travel.  But 
I  am  surprised  that  this  is  news  to  you. 
Katharine  has  written  you  several  letters,  I 
know,  keeping  you  advised  as  to  Keith's 
condition." 

"  I  have  received  none  of  them,  and  have 
been  so  anxious  about  him.  But  is  he  not 
dreadfully  homesick,  Lieutenant  Anderson?  " 

"  He  seemed  very  well  satisfied  when  I  saw 
him  last.  You  know  he  has  the  finest  nurse 
in  the  United  States,  '  if  I  do  say  it  as  hadn't 
ought  to.'  " 

"  And  Michael — Lieutenant  Cavanagh,  do 
you  know  anything  of  him?  " 

"  Rather  too  much,  thank  you.  He  is 
one  of  the  greatest  daredevils  in  the  Rebel 
army." 

"Thank  you,  oh!  thank  you  so  much  for 
this  news!  "  said  Aileen  earnestly.  "  I  have 
been  almost  heartbroken  over  Keith.  When 
Marie  had  letters  from  Colonel  Dupre  and 
Philip,  and  they  could  tell  us  nothing  of 
him  or  of  Michael,  I  almost  gave  up  hope. 


64  When  the  Bugle  Called 

Thank  you  for  my  jewel  box,  too.  I  am  glad 
to  know  there  is  one  honest  man  among  the 
Northern  soldiers." 

"  I  regret  exceedingly  that  you  should  have 
been  subjected  to  so  many  indignities,"  he 
said,  his  boyish  face  reddening,  "  but  it  is 
the  fortune  of  war." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  quarrel  with  you — I 
am  far  too  grateful  to  you."  And  Aileen 
smiled  at  him  bewitchingly.  "  Will  you  tell 
your  sister  how  I  love  her  for  her  care  of 
Keith?  It  is  such  joy  to  hear  that  he  has 
found  friends." 

During  this  conversation  Marie  had  sat 
by  strangely  silent,  her  eyes  looking  wide  and 
strained,  and  for  some  time,  after  they  were 
left  alone,  she  did  not  move. 

When  the  young  lieutenant  rode  away  that 
evening  he  carried  a  vision  of  golden  hair 
and  blue  eyes,  and  after  several  hours'  deep 
thought  upon  the  subject  he  decided  that 
Aileen  was  the  most  beautiful  name  he  had 
ever  heard,  and  a  blonde  the  most  preferable 
type  of  loveliness. 


News  of  Keith  65 

Next  morning  Marie,  with  old  Jerry, 
went  over  the  place,  and  the  result  filled  the 
girl  with  despair.  They  found  that  the 
Northern  soldiers  had  taken  or  killed  every 
live  creature  on  the  plantation  save  Dahlia's 
horse  that  Caesar  had  hidden,  and  Joe,  an 
ancient  steer.  The  chest  of  silver  was  gone; 
and  all  the  provisions  had  been  confiscated  or 
destroyed,  so  there  was  left  for  them  to  live 
on  only  some  field  peas  and  the  bacon  ceiled 
up  in  the  attic. 

"  Nemmine,  HI'  Miss,"  consoled  the  old 
man,  seeing  the  girl's  sorrowful  face,  "  de 
good  Lawd  will  pervide.  We  gwine  manage 
somehow.  We  can  plow  wid  Lady  Jane  an' 
ole  Joe " 

"  Plow! — but  what  are  we  going  to  plant? 
Where  can  we  get  anything!  "  And  Marie 
leaned  her  head  on  the  top  rail  of  the  fence 
and  burst  into  tears. 

"  Now,  honey,  don't  do  dat — don't  werry 
dat  HI'  haid.  Ole  Jerry  an'  de  good  Lawd 
tergedder  sho'  gwine  ter  tek  keer  er  Mars 
Phil's  chullen!" 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE    RETURN   OF   THE    CRUCIFIX 

:'  THIS  has  been  the  longest  day  I  ever 
spent,"  said  Dahlia,  settling  herself  more 
comfortably  on  the  rug,  "  and  it  hasn't 
seemed  one  bit  like  Christmas." 

"  It  has  certainly  been  a  very  sad  one." 
And  Aileen  sighed  dismally. 

Marie  said  nothing,  but  sat  gazing  into 
the  fire,  lost  in  sorrowful  musings. 

It  was  Christmas  night.  The  children 
had  gone  to  bed  long  ago,  and  the  three 
girls,  wearied  with  their  efforts  to  be  gay  and 
happy,  still  lingered  in  the  library.  The 
blazing  logs  on  the  hearth  diffused  a  warm 
flickering  light  over  the  room,  that  in  a 
measure  softened  its  bareness  and  gave  it  an 
almost  cheerful  look.  "  And  to  think  but 
for  Lieutenant  Anderson  and  Sergeant  Ma- 
lone  we  would  go  to  bed  hungry !  "  Dahlia 
continued,  with  a  little  sobbing  laugh. 

66 


The  Return  of  the  Crucifix  67 

"  Lieutenant  Anderson  has  been  so  very 
kind,"  said  Aileen,  her  face  flushing  slightly. 
"  And  I  can  never  thank  his  sister  enough  for 
what  she  has  done  for  Keith." 

Marie  looked  up  suddenly. 

"  It  is  well  that  there  are  some  few  among 
them  with  a  little  Christian  charity."  Her 
usually  sweet  voice  sounded  harsh  and  bitter. 
"  We  have  certainly  found  it  very  rare." 

"  Oh,  but  Sergeant  Malone  is  a  dear!" 
cried  Dahlia.  "  I  almost  forget  he  is  a 
Yankee." 

"  It  is  such  a  pity  the  troops  stopped  so 
near  us;  I  feel  very  sorry  for  those  poor 
people  around  Ellersly." 

"  Yes,  it  is  very  unfortunate,"  Aileen  re 
joined;  "  it  is  simply  ruining  the  negroes. 
Uncle  Tony  tells  me  they  have  all  left  '  Idle- 
wild.'  Poor  Keith!  he  will  find  the  place  a 
wilderness." 

"  Marie,"  remarked  Dahlia  after  a  little 
silence,  "  wouldn't  it  be  funny  to  go  North 
some  time,  years  after  this,  and  see  our  silver 
on  some  Yankee's  table !  " 


68  When  the  Bugle  Called 

"How  absurd  you  are,  Dahlia;  we  would 
never  be  at  table  with  such  people !  " 

;'  Well,  good  children,"  said  Aileen,  yawn 
ing,  "  you  may  sit  up  and  gossip  as  long  as 
you  like,  but  I  am  almost  asleep." 

"  I  am,  too."  And  Dahlia  stretched 
lazily.  "  Aren't  you  ready  to  come  up 
stairs,  Marie?  " 

"  I'm  simply  too  tired  to  move,"  Marie 
replied  wearily.  "  Don't  wait  for  me.  I'll 
come  presently.  Good-night !  "  And  she 
held  up  her  mouth  to  be  kissed. 

Left  alone,  her  face  relaxed  into  lines  of 
inexpressible  sadness,  and  she  leaned  her  head 
on  her  hand  in  an  attitude  of  utter  dejection. 
For  a  long  time  she  sat  without  moving,  the 
fire  light  shining  on  her  pale  face  and  soft 
brown  hair.  The  clock  struck  eleven,  each 
deep  solemn  tone  reverberating  through  the 
big  empty  room,  but  she  did  not  seem  to 
hear  it. 

Then  just  as  the  last  stroke  died  away 
there  came  a  little  sound  that  made  her  sit 
up  suddenly  with  blanched  face  and  wide 


The  Return  of  the  Crucifix  69 

frightened  eyes.  There  it  was  again !  Some 
one  was  tapping  softly  but  insistently  at  the 
window  that  opened  on  the  porch.  For  an 
instant  she  hesitated,  then  resolutely  walked 
to  the  window.  "  Who  is  there?  "  she  asked 
in  low,  clear  tones,  without  drawing  aside  the 
heavy  curtains.  There  was  no  answer,  but 
the  tapping  was  repeated  a  little  louder,  and 
as  it  seemed  to  Marie,  impatiently.  "  Who 
is  it?  "  she  asked  again,  "  and  what  do  you 
want  so  late  at  night?" 

"  'Tis  only  a  poor  pedlar,"  answered  a 
voice  in  a  rich  Irish  brogue.  "  Won't  you 
give  me  shelter,  lady,  and  a  bite  to  eat,  in 
the  name  of  the  Blessed  Virgin?  Ye  could 
not  have  the  heart  to  turn  away  any  one  on 
Christmas  night." 

Now  thoroughly  alarmed,  Marie  hastily 
considered  the  situation.  That  it  was  one, 
or  possibly  more,  of  the  detachment  of  sol 
diers  at  Ellersly,  she  did  not  doubt.  If  she 
refused  admittance  it  could  easily  be  forced — 
perhaps  a  brave  front  would  be  best.  While 
still  hesitating,  she  heard  the  man  outside 


yo  When  the  Bugle  Called 

fumbling  with  the  window.  He  was  slipping 
something  through  one  of  the  broken  panes 
of  glass,  and  the  article  fell  to  the  floor  with 
a  little  clinking  sound.  Marie  stooped 
quickly  and  felt  under  the  curtain;  then 
she  stood  up  with  a  cry  of  amazement — 
she  held  in  her  hand  her  lost  crucifix !  With 
out  considering  another  instant  she  opened 
the  window,  and  there  stepped  into  the  room 
a  stranger — a  tall  red-bearded  man,  muffled 
in  a  long  black  cloak,  with  a  slouch  hat  pulled 
over  his  eyes.  She  turned  cold  with  fear  as 
he  silently  fastened  the  window  and  drew  the 
curtains  close  across  it. 

And  then — "  Michael! "  she  cried,  as  he 
flung  down  the  red  beard  and  slouch  hat,  and 
caught  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Hush !  "  he  commanded  in  a  low  tone. 
"  You  can  be  heard.  Some  one  followed  me 
— a  negro,  I  think.  It  will  be  the  end  of 
me  if  the  Yankees  discover  that  I  am  here. 
Ah !  Marie,  my  dear,"  he  continued  fervently, 
"  it  is  like  heaven  to  be  here  again — to  be 
near  you !  "  And  he  would  have  kissed  her, 


The  Return  of  the  Crucifix  71 

but  she  pushed  him  away,  her  face  paling  and 
flushing  by  turns. 

'  You  must  not  kiss  me,  Michael,"  she 
faltered,  "  it  is  not  right — you  have  no 
right " 

"  That  is  just  it,  Marie,"  he  interrupted, 
still  holding  her  hands  against  his  breast.  "  I 
want  you  to  give  me  the  right,  here,  now. 
Will  you  be  my  wife,  dear?  " 

She  tried  to  draw  her  hands  away  from 
him,  and  did  not  answer. 

"  I  have  loved  you  all  my  life,"  he  went 
on  earnestly.  "  I  would  have  told  you  so 
ages  ago,  but  I  thought  Keith  loved  you, 
too." 

She  stood  quite  still  now,  and  her  wide 
gray  eyes  searched  his  face. 

"  Yes?  "  she  whispered,  her  lips  quivering. 

"  I  thought  Keith  loved  you,  and  I  did 
not  want  to  be  unfair  to  him,  so  I  waited. 
But  now " 

"Yes?  go  on — but  now?"  she  questioned 
breathlessly,  her  hands  on  his  breast  fluttering 
like  captive  birds. 


72  When  the  Bugle  Called 

"  But  now  it  seems  that  he  is  in  love  with 
a  Northern  girl,  a  Miss  Anderson — is  en 
gaged  to  her,  I  hear.  He  has  not  written  to 
me  in  months.  You  know  he  was  wounded 
and  captured  and  she  nursed  him;  it  was  then 
he  fell  in  love  with  her.  You  remember  Tom 
Grant?  He  was  captured  at  the  same  time; 

he  told  me Why,  Marie,  dear,  what 

is' it?" 

She  had  fainted  in  his  arms. 

"  I  am  all  right  now,  Michael,"  she  said 
presently,  smiling  at  him  from  the  couch 
where  he  had  laid  her.  "  It  was  just  such  a 
hard  day,  and  I  am  so  tired,  body  and 
soul." 

"  It  is  my  opinion  that  you  are  half 
starved,"  he  said  grimly,  as  he  noted  her 
wan  face,  and  the  blue  shadows  under  her 
eyes. 

"  And  Michael,  dear  friend,  we  will  never 
speak  of  this  again,  please.  I  am  sorry " 

"  Never  mind,"  he  answered  tenderly,  "  I 
understand,  I  understand.  It  shall  be  just 
as  you  wish." 


The  Return  of  the  Crucifix  73 

He  kissed  her  cold  hand  almost  reverently 
and  turned  away  to  the  fire  that  he  might  not 
see  her  face.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life 
he  felt  bitter  anger  against  Keith.  To  think 
that  the  love  he  had  dreamed  of  possessing 
should  be  given  to  a  man  who  did  not  want 
it!  That  such  was  the  case  he  no  longer 
doubted,  and  his  heart  ached  for  Marie  as 
well  as  for  himself. 

A  slight  noise  at  the  door  caused  him  to 
turn  sharply  in  ever-ready  alertness  for  trou 
ble.  The  sight  which  met  his  eyes  was  one 
to  disarm  fear,  but  he  gave  an  involuntary 
exclamation  of  surprise.  It  was  a  slender 
girl,  wrapped  in  an  old  white  dressing-gown, 
her  hair  floating  around  her  in  a  dusky  wav 
ing  mass,  and  her  great  dark  eyes  shining 
unnaturally  bright  from  out  of  a  face 
flushed  like  a  rose.  She  held  out  her  arms 
to  him  with  a  little  unconscious  gesture  of 
tenderness. 

"  Michael,  oh,  Michael !  "  she  cried. 

Then  suddenly  the  light  left  her  face  and 
her  arms  dropped  heavily  to  her  side. 


74  When  the  Bugle  Called 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Michael," 
she  said,  in  a  level  monotonous  voice  like  a 
child  repeating  a  lesson.  "  When  did  you 
come?  I  hope  you  are  well.  It  isn't  very 
safe  for  you  here,  is  it?  " 

She  did  not  seem  to  see  his  outstretched 
hand,  but  went  over  to  Marie's  side. 

"  Marie,  what  is  it?  "  she  asked  solicit 
ously.  "  You  look  so  queer  and  faint.  Let 
me  get  you  some  water  or  do  something  for 
you." 

"  No,  no.  I'm  all  right  now.  I  felt  faint 
for  a  while,  but  it  soon  passed." 

She  drew  Dahlia  down  to  a  seat  on  the 
couch,  and  kept  hold  of  her  hand. 

"  You  were  so  long  downstairs,"  Dahlia 
said  in  that  lifeless  voice  that  sounded  so 
unlike  her  usual  soft,  musical  tones.  "  I  was 
frightened  about  you,  and  when  I  came  and 
saw  Michael,  I  was  so  very  surprised — so 
startled " 

She  stopped  abruptly  and  did  not  finish 
her  sentence. 

Michael  paced  the  room  restlessly. 


The  Return  of  the  Crucifix  75 

"  Where  Is  Aileen?  "  he  asked.  "  I  should 
like  to  see  her,  and  I  must  soon  be  leaving 
here,  to  pass  the  lines  before  day." 

Dahlia  went  upstairs  to  tell  Aileen,  and 
the  two  came  back  together  in  a  few  minutes. 
There  was  so  much  to  be  said — so  many  ex 
periences  to  relate,  that  an  hour  was  soon 
gone.  Dahlia  brought  in  the  remnants  of 
their  Christmas  dinner,  and  Michael,  though 
ravenously  hungry,  protested  against  taking 
any  of  their  meager  store. 

"  Oh,  you  must,  Michael,"  Marie  insisted; 
"  it  would  break  my  heart  to  have  a  guest 
leave  '  Oakdale '  hungry.  Dahlia,  look  in 
the  dining-room  again.  There  is  a  bottle 
of  wine  there — the  one  Mammy  hid.  Bring 
it  here,  and  a  glass." 

"  I  know  where  it  is,"  exclaimed  Aileen. 
"I'll  get  it."  But  she  returned  almost  in 
stantly,  empty  handed.  "  Oh,  Michael,"  she 
gasped  excitedly,  "  the  Yankees  are  riding 
up  the  back  way!  " 

"  Then  there  is  no  time  to  lose !  "  he  cried, 
springing  to  his  feet.  "  If  I  am  taken  in 


76  When  the  Bugle  Called 

these  civilian  clothes  there  will  be  a  hanging. 
They  will  be  only  too  glad  of  an  excuse." 

"Here!"  cried  Marie  guardedly,  "come 
over  to  the  side  porch  and  slip  down  the 
cedar  walk — it  will  be  so  dark  they  cannot 
see  you." 

With  whispered  good-bys,  they  let  him  out 
just  as  someone  pounded  on  the  front  door. 

"  We  have  come  to  search  the  house," 
said  an  officer  to  Marie,  who  opened  the  door 
and  stood  quietly  barring  the  way.  "  We 
know  there  is  a  dangerous  Rebel  hidden 
here." 

It  was  nearly  daylight  when  the  soldiers 
rode  away,  empty  handed,  and  the  three  girls 
could  go  back  to  their  rooms  to  snatch  a  little 
rest. 

Marie,  worn  out  with  the  excitement  and 
emotions  of  the  day,  was  just  slipping  into 
the  sleep  of  utter  exhaustion  when  a  light 
touch  on  her  arm  aroused  her  again.  She 
started,  and  sat  up  in  bed.  Dahlia,  still  in 
her  dressing-gown,  her  black  hair  streaming 
wild  about  her,  knelt  by  her  bed. 


The  Return  of  the  Crucifix  77 

"  Marie,  I  can't  sleep  until  I  talk  to  you," 
she  whispered.  "  Tell  me,  did — did  Michael 
ask  you — did  he  ask  you ?  " 

She  hesitated,  and  Marie  quietly  finished 
the  sentence  for  her.  "To  be  his  wife? 
Yes,  Dahlia,  he  did." 

"  Oh,  Marie,  what  did  you  say — surely, 
surely  you  did  not  refuse  him?  " 

Marie's  head  went  down  on  the  girl's 
shoulder. 

"  I  had  to — I  do  not  love  him  like  that," 
she  murmured. 

"  But,  Marie,  you  will  spoil  his  life — you 
will  break  his  heart,"  pleaded  the  girl;  "he 
loves  you,  and 'you  would  be  so  happy  with 
him." 

Marie  did  not  answer. 

"  Couldn't  you  learn  to  care  for  him, 
Marie?  There  is  no  one  else,  is  there?  " 

"  No,  there  is  no  one  else,"  whispered 
Marie  brokenly;  "  there  is  no  one  else — 
now." 

"  Then  when  he  asks  you  again,  won't  you 
say  yes?  " 


78  When  the  Bugle  Called 

Dahlia's  voice  sounded  as  though  she  were 
pleading  for  her  own  happiness. 

Marie  was  silent  for  a  long  time,  a  tumult 
of  thoughts  and  emotions  crushing  through 
her  mind  and  heart.  At  last  she  spoke,  very 
low,  but  clearly,  calmly: 

"  If — if  he  asks  me  again,  I  will  say  yes." 

Dahlia  gave  her  a  little  impulsive  squeeze. 

"  Thank  you,  Marie.    Oh,  I  am  so  glad!  " 


CHAPTER    VII 
DAHLIA 

IT  was  just  after  breakfast  next  day,  and 
Marie,  Aileen,  and  Dahlia  stood  on  the  front 
portico  discussing  anxiously  the  events  of  the 
preceding  night. 

"  Surely,  surely,  he  made  his  escape," 
Aileen  was  saying. 

"  Missy,  I'm  pow'ful  feared  he  didn't." 

The  three  girls  turned  in  surprise.  Old 
Jerry  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  a  troubled 
expression  on  his.  wrinkled  black  face. 

"  Dem  Yankees  kotch  Mars  Michael  las' 
night,"  he  continued  dolefully,  "  an'  dat  ain't 
de  wust — dey  say  he  is  er  spy." 

In  horrified  silence  they  listened,  for  they 
knew  that  such  an  accusation  meant  death — 
an  ignominious  death. 

"  Somehow  dey  got  on  ter  Mars  Mike's 
trail,  an'  he  slipped  inter  de  Rect'ry  an' 
Father  De  Bun  hid  'im  in  de  chu'ch,  an' 

79 


80  When  the  Bugle  Called 

dey  foun'  'im,  an'  dey  burned  down  de 
chu'ch " 

"  No,  no !  surely  they  did  not,  Uncle  Jerry, 
they  could  not !  " 

"  Yassum,  dey  did.  I  done  jes'  come  f'um 
dar.  Dey  burn  hit  down,  an'  de  Rect'ry  hit 
kotch  er  fire  an'  burn,  too.  Den  Father  De 
Bun  he  tuck  an'  argify  dat  Mars  Mike  warn't 
no  spy,  but  dey  wouldn't  listen  to  'im." 

"  Why,  where  was  Lieutenant  Anderson, 
that  such  outrages  were  committed?"  cried 
Aileen  indignantly. 

"  But  Michael !  "  Dahlia  interrupted. 

"  Miss  Dahlia,  dey  gwine  hang  'im  at  sun 
rise  in  de  mawnin'." 

Aileen  sank  down  on  the  steps  and  hid  her 
face  in  her  hands.  Dahlia  seemed  turned 
into  stone. 

"  But  can  nothing — nothing  be  done?  " 

"  Dey  say  dey  sho'  gwine  hang  'im,  Miss 
Marie." 

"  We  must  go  to  them  at  once  and  tell 
them  he  is  no  spy.  Perhaps  we  can  save 
him." 


Dahlia  8 1 

Aileen  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  eyes  spark 
ling  with  hope  through  her  tears.  "  Come, 
Dahlia,"  she  cried,  "  let  us  all  three  go !  " 

Dahlia  looked  like  a  person  in  a  dream. 

"  No,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head  sadly, 
"  it  would  be  no  use;  they  would  not  listen 
to  us." 

But  Marie  and  Aileen  went  over  to  El- 
lersly  on  their  mission  of  love,  and  soon  after 
noon  returned  in  deep  despair.  Their  plead 
ing  had  been  in  vain. 

"Did  you  see  him?"  asked  Dahlia 
anxiously. 

"  No,  they  would  not  even  let  us  speak  to 
him.  Oh,  Mirhael,  poor  Michael !  "  And 
Marie  burst  into  tears. 

Dahlia  turned  away  without  a  word,  and 
not  long  after,  Aileen,  looking  from  an  up 
stairs  window,  saw  her  walking  slowly  toward 
the  quarters. 

Just  as  the  sun  was  sinking  behind  the 
western  pines  there  strolled  into  the  Union 
camp  beyond  Ellersly  two  boys  with  a  banjo. 


82  When  the  Bugle  Called 

One  was  small  and  sallow-faced,  with  closely 
cropped  black  hair,  and  ragged,  ill-fitting 
clothes,  and  evidently  belonged  to  the  class 
commonly  known  as  country  Crackers.  But 
there  was  something  strangely  appealing  in 
his  melancholy  dark  eyes,  and  a  contradic 
tory  drollness  about  his  mouth.  His  com 
panion,  who  carried  the  banjo,  was  a  queer, 
misshapen,  ape-like  negro,  with  wide-standing 
ears  and  a  pleased  childish  grin  stretching  his 
thick  lips.  The  strange  couple  were  objects 
of  great  interest  to  the  idle  soldiers  and  the 
targets  for  many  jests.  Some  of  these  the 
white  boy  replied  to  in  his  soft  dialect,  with 
such  native  humor  as  sent  the  crowding  sol 
diers  into  convulsive  merriment. 

"  Here,"  cried  one,  "  give  us  some  music, 
why  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Waal  now,"  drawled  the  boy,  "  be  per- 
lite,  an'  take  us  to  a  fire,  an'  give  us  some  of 
you-uns'  supper.  We-uns  ain't  hed  enough  to 
eat  since  you  durn  Yankees  come  down  this- 
er-way." 

He  looked  up  at  the  big  blue-clad  soldiers 


Dahlia  83 

with  a  smile  so  whimsical  and  friendly  that 
it  quite  won  their  hearts.  They  led  them  to 
the  nearest  fire  and  set  before  them  a  tempt 
ing  supper.  The  negro  ate  ravenously,  but 
the  other  boy  spent  much  time  chaffing  with 
the  soldiers  and  looking  about  him.  There 
were  several  prisoners  on  the  other  side  of 
the  fire,  among  them  Michael  Cavanagh,  his 
ankles  bound  together  and  his  hands  tied  be 
hind  his  back.  He  took  little  notice  of  what 
went  on  around  him,  but  sat  staring  gloomily 
at  the  glowing  coals.  Quite  a  crowd  of  sol 
diers  had  gathered  around,  eager  for  any 
diversion  from  the  monotony  of  camp  life. 

"  Thar  now,  Pete,"  said  the  white  boy 
presently  to  his  black  companion,  "  we  hev 
eat  about  as  much  as  we  kin  hold,  so  chune 
up." 

Pete  tuned  up,  struck  a  few  chords  on  the 
banjo  and  the  little  Cracker  began  to  sing. 
And  such  singing!  The  soldiers  listened  in 
breathless  delight.  He  sang  the  negro  plan 
tation  melodies  as  only  one  reared  among  the 
negroes  can  sing  them.  The  crowd  drew 


84  When  the  Bugle  Called 

closer  and  closer,  calling  for  one  song  after 
another. 

"  Waal,  now,  I'm  kinder  sung  out,"  said 
the  boy  after  a  while,  "  but  I  tell  you  what — 
I'll  bet  thar  ain't  nobody  in  this  here  crowd 
that  kin  beat  me  pickin'  a  banjo."  He  smiled 
at  them  invitingly,  his  even  white  teeth  gleam 
ing  against  the  sallow  brown  of  his  face. 
"  I'll  bet  er  chaw  er  terbaccer,"  he  repeated. 

"  I'll  bet  two-bits  I  can  beat  you  and  not 
half  try,"  said  a  voice  from  behind  the 
crowd.  The  soldiers  turned,  craning  their 
necks  to  see  who  had  spoken. 

"  It's  that  damned  rebel  spy,"  said  one. 

"  Lemme  look  at  the  man  kin  beat  me 
playin'  a  banjo !  "  cried  the  boy  derisively, 
walking  over  to  where  Michael  sat.  "  Think 
you  kin  play,  do  you?"  he  queried,  looking 
up  at  Michael  from  under  his  ragged  hat 
brim. 

"  I  can  beat  you  any  day,  and  not  half 
try,"  Michael  repeated. 

"  Aw,  listen  to  him !  Come  here,  some 
body,  an'  awntie  this  here  smarty's  hands  an' 


Dahlia  85 

let's  hear  him  play."  For  an  instant  there 
was  silence,  then  Dennis  M alone  came  for 
ward  and  untied  Michael's  hands. 

"  He  ain't  got  long  to  live,"  he  remarked; 
"  let's  have  some  fun  and  hear  'em  play. 

The  boy  put  the  banjo  into  Michael's 
hands;  stiff  from  his  long  inaction,  he  clumsily 
dropped  it. 

"  Humph !  "  remarked  the  small  country 
man;  "talk  about  pickin'  a  banjo — he  can't 
even  hold  one !  " 

Nevertheless  the  prisoner  did  play  it  won 
derfully  well,  and  there  was  much  patting  of 
feet  in  time  to  the  infectious  music.  But  at 
last  the  boy  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and 
snatching  the  instrument  from  Michael,  he 
bent  over  it  and  made  such  music  as  few  in 
that  crowd  had  ever  heard  before.  Hands 
began  to  clap,  and  the  negro,  who  had  been 
sitting  by  silently,  began  to  dance.  The  sol 
diers  cleared  a  space  for  him  and  formed  a 
ring  around,  shouting,  clapping,  stamping, 
and  urging  him  on.  It  was  a  strange  sight. 
Twilight  had  settled  over  the  camp,  and  the 


86  When  the  Bugle  Called 

fire  cast  long,  queer  shadows  over  the  group 
and  the  surrounding  pines.  The  negro,  with 
his  enormous  head  and  flopping  ears,  his 
long,  thin  legs  and  great  flat  feet,  danced 
in  a  perfect  frenzy,  faster  and  faster.  He 
seemed  like  one  possessed,  and  the  soldiers, 
wild  with  delight,  stamped  and  cheered.  At 
last  the  music  ceased  suddenly,  and  the  dancer 
dropped  to  the  ground  in  utter  exhaustion. 

"  Here,  Malone,  where's  your  flask?  Give 
the  poor  brute  a  drink.  Didn't  he  dance  like 
hell?" 

"  Like  a  very  imp  of  Satan !  " 

"  God-ermighty,  men !  "  cried  a  voice  be 
hind  them,  "  the  Rebel  spy  has  escaped !  " 

A  dismayed  silence  followed  this  announce 
ment.  The  little  Cracker  was  the  first  to 
speak. 

"  Now,  ain't  that  a  durn  shame !  "  he  re 
marked  regretfully.  "  But  you  won't  hev  no 
trouble  ketchin'  him,"  he  added  consolingly; 
"  he's  been  tied  up  so  long,  he's  'bleeged  ter 
be  stiff." 

Suddenly  he  raised  a  grimy  forefinger  and 


Dahlia  87 

pointed  toward  the  pines  in  the  direction  of 
"  Oakdale." 

"  Thar  he  is !  Thar  he  is !  "  he  cried, 
dancing  up  and  down  excitedly;  "  don't  you 
see  him  dodgin'  behind  them  trees?  I 
knowed  he  couldn't  er  got  fur !  "  And  he 
started  forward  on  a  swift  run.  Instantly 
the  dazed  soldiers  awoke  to  action  and,  like 
a  pack  of  deer  hounds  in  full  cry,  began  the 
chase. 

About  this  time  at  "  Oakdale "  Marie 
and  Aileen  stared  through  the  library  win 
dows  into  the  gathering  dusk,  in  anxious 
misery. 

"  It  isn't  like  Dahlia  to  do  this  way," 
Marie  was  saying,  "  and  it  isn't  safe  for  her 
to  be  out  so  late." 

"What  was  it  Mammy  Cindy  said?" 

"  That  she  saw  Dahlia  at  the  quarters  and 
she  said  tell  me  not  to  be  worried  about  her 
• — that  she  would  be  late  getting  home.  But 
Mammy  did  not  say  where  she  was  going." 

"  It  is  something  about  Michael."  Aileen 
spoke  positively.  "  She  has  some  wild  scheme 


88  When  the  Bugle  Called 

in  her  head  to  save  him.  Oh,  Marie,  isn't  it 
dreadful  to  think  of  it — Michael  to  die  in 
such  a  way!  " 

The  door  behind  them  softly  opened  and 
closed.  Turning  quickly,  they  saw  Dahlia 
standing  by  the  library  table,  looking  at  them 
with  strange  unseeing  eyes. 

"  Merciful  Heaven!  "  cried  Marie;  "  what 
is  the  matter — what  has  happened?" 

"  Dahlia  Dupre !  "  Aileen  exclaimed, 
"  what  have  you  done  to  your  hair?  " 

With  an  odd,  confused  look,  Dahlia  raised 
her  hands  to  her  head.  "My  hair?"  she 
repeated  wonderingly. 

"  Yes,  your  hair — it  is  all  cut  off,  and  your 
face  looks  stained  brown !  " 

Marie  crossed  the  room  and  took  the  girl 
by  the  shoulders,  turning  her  toward  the 
light. 

"  Dahlia,"  she  said  sternly,  "  what  does  all 
this  mean?  " 

For  answer  Dahlia  began  laughing  hys 
terically. 

Marie  gave  her  an  impatient  little  shake. 


Dahlia  89 

"Are  you  crazy?"  she  cried  in  exaspera 
tion.  "  Why  don't  you  answer  me — what  is 
the  matter?  " 

Just  then  the  door  flew  open  and  Mammy 
Cindy  rushed  into  the  room.  Taking  in  the 
situation  at  a  glance,  she  pushed  Marie  and 
Aileen  away. 

"  Go  'long,  bofe  of  you — ain't  yer  'shamed 
ter  pester  de  chile  lak  dat !  Come  rat  h'yer 
ter  yo'  mammy,  mammy's  po'  HI'  lamb ! " 
And  the  old  negress  took  Dahlia  in  her  arms, 
crooned  over  her  and  petted  her  until  the 
wild  sobs  ceased.  "  Now,  lil'  Miss,  git  me 
some  er  dat  wine  ter  gib  'er,  an'  den  come 
he'p  me  put  'er  ter  baid.  Naw,  honey,  neber 
mine,"  soothingly  to  Dahlia,  "  don't  try  ter 
talk  now;  yo'  mammy  knows  all  erbout  it, 
an'  she'll  tell  'em  d'reckly.  You  jes'  come  on 
an'  go  ter  sleep." 

An  hour  later  Dahlia  was  sleeping  quietly, 
her  hand  clasped  in  Mammy  Cindy's,  and 
Marie  stole  downstairs  to  tell  Aileen  and  the 
children  the  wonderful  story  of  how  Dahlia 
and  Caesar  had  saved  Michael's  life. 


9O  When  the  Bugle  Called 

"  Oh,  I  don't  see  how  she  had  the  cour 
age!  "  cried  Aileen,  when  Marie  had  finished. 
"  It  is  the  very  bravest  thing  I  ever  heard  of. 
Suppose  something  had  gone  wrong  and  they 
had  suspected  her — how  dreadful  it  would 
have  been !  " 

"  Yes,  you  see  Michael  recognized  Caesar 
at  once,  of  course,  and  must  have  been  on 
the  lookout  for  something.  How  lucky  that 
the  Yankees  had  never  seen  Caesar — you 
know  he  was  hiding  Lady  Jane  in  the  swamp 
when  they  were  on  the  place." 

"  Michael  must  have  guessed  that  the 
little  Cracker  was  Dahlia.  I  always  said  she 
should  have  been  an  actress,"  laughed  Aileen. 
"  She  certainly  must  have  looked  and  acted 
the  part  to  perfection." 

"Is  Dahlia  a  heroine,  Marie?"  inquired 
Elsie  reflectively. 

"  Yes,  dear,  a  real  heroine,"  Marie  an 
swered,  with  shining  eyes. 

"  But  she  couldn't  have  done  any  of  it 
without  Caesar,"  remarked  Dick,  "  so  Caesar 
is  a  real  hero." 


THE  first  breath  of  spring  had  passed  over 
the  Southland,  and  nature  stirred  from  her 
short  winter  nap.  Everywhere  were  tender 
greens,  blossoming  fruit  trees — a  perfect 
wealth  of  delicate  colors — and  in  the  hedge 
of  Cherokee  roses  were  nesting  twittering 
birds.  High  up  in  a  pecan  tree  a  red  bird 
was  whistling  and  calling  ecstatically  to  the 
awakening  garden  that  summer  was  coming. 

The  sun  shone  warm  and  the  breeze  that 
lifted  the  brown  curls  on  Marie's  forehead 
was  soft  and  balmy.  It  was  the  season  for 
day  dreams,  for  awakening  hopes,  and  ten 
der  remembrances;  but  on  the  girl's  still  face 
was  the  look  of  one  who  had  bidden  an  eter 
nal  farewell  to  hope  and  joy.  The  despair 
of  a  few  weeks  ago  had  given  place  to  a 
brooding  sadness  pitiable  to  see  in  one  so 
91 


92  When  the  Bugle  Called 

young.  She  sat  by  the  library  window  look 
ing  out  upon  the  sweet  green  earth,  thinking 
how  little  nature's  mood  accorded  with  the 
hearts  of  the  South. 

Vague,  disturbing  rumors  came  to  them  of 
Lee's  surrender,  but  they  could  hear  nothing 
definite.  It  had  been  weeks  since  they  had 
received  news  from  those  far-away  dear  ones 
with  Lee's  ragged  army,  and  Marie's  heart 
grew  heavier  when  she  thought  of  their  fate. 
Home  matters,  too,  troubled  her  greatly. 
The  outlook  for  the  coming  year  was  dark 
indeed.  The  negroes  were  becoming  more 
and  more  unmanageable,  and  in  Marie's  soul 
was  growing  a  horrible  fear,  new  to  her  and 
hard  to  combat,  because  it  was  illusive,  in 
tangible.  She  had  never  spoken  of  it  to  any 
one — never  even  put  it  into  words  to  herself, 
so  it  haunted  her,  a  great,  black,  hideous 
shape  looming  up  in  the  darkness  around  her. 

The  steps  needed  mending  very  often  those 
days,  and  she  and  old  Jerry  had  many  long 
talks,  but  the  result  of  these  conferences  gen 
erally  left  her  more  anxious  than  before. 


The  Shadow  in  the  Darkness         93 

At  the  library  table  Dahlia  was  writing 
letters.  A  few  weeks  after  his  escape,  a  letter 
had  reached  her  from  Michael,  full  of  his 
intense  gratitude  for  what  she  had  done  for 
him,  wondering  how  she  had  stood  the  try 
ing  ordeal,  and  begging  her  to  write  to  him 
at  once,  and  often,  on  the  bare  chance  that  he 
might  receive  her  letters.  He  could  hardly 
find  words  in  which  to  express  his  apprecia 
tion  of  her  bravery  and  resourcefulness,  and 
Dahlia  so  treasured  this  missive  that  she  wore 
it  to  fragments  reading  it. 

And  but  yesterday  had  come  to  her  a  letter 
from  Sydney  Elmore,  written  on  the  eve  of  a 
great  battle,  and  sent  by  his  body-servant, 
Ned. 

Ned  had  left  before  the  fighting  had  begun 
and  had  passed  through  innumerable  hard 
ships  and  dangers  to  place  his  master's  letter 
in  Dahlia's  hands.  Dahlia  read  it  through 
blinding  tears,  and  then  laughed,  her  eyes  still 
tear-wet.  For  it  was  such  a  letter !  Sydney's 
boyish  love  had  deepened  and  strengthened 
in  the  last  four  years,  and  though  still  touched 


94  When  the  Bugle  Called 

with  a  half-mystic,  chivalrous  romance,  it 
was  a  man's  love  now.  His  letter  was  full  of 
it;  and  filled,  too,  with  boyish  reminiscences 
that  brought  the  smiles  to  Dahlia's  emotional 
features. 

Aileen,  sitting  near  with  her  sewing,  looked 
up  at  her  from  time  to  time,  enjoying  the 
girl's  rare  beauty.  The  cropped  hair  was 
growing  out  rapidly,  forming  soft  black  ring 
lets  all  over  her  head,  and  she  looked  more 
winsome  than  ever. 

"  Just  listen  to  this !  "  cried  Dahlia,  glanc 
ing  up  at  Aileen  and  Marie  from  over  the 
top  of  the  letter  in  her  hand.  "  Dear  old 
Sydney — the  idea  of  his  remembering  it." 
And  with  a  voice  that  trembled  slightly,  she 
read  aloud  to  them : 

"  '  So  many  pictures  of  you  are  passing 
through  my  mind  to-night.  I  see  you  as  a 
tiny,  wilful  child,  and  then  a  little  later,  when 
you  first  began  going  to  Ellersley  with  us  to 
say  lessons  to  Father  De  Berne.  There  is  one 
time — it  stands  out  so  clearly  against  the 


The  Shadow  in  the  Darkness         95 

multitude  of  other  memories  that  it  makes 
me  laugh  now  in  spite  of  my  heavy  heart.  It 
was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  were  com 
ing  home  from  school.  Uncle  Jerry  was  driv 
ing  Thunder  and  Lightning  to  the  spring 
wagon,  and  you  sat  on  the  front  seat  with 
him,  because  you  were  the  youngest.  You 
were  only  six  or  seven,  and  your  dress  was 
torn  and  your  curls  wild,  as  usual.  Behind  in 
the  wagon  were  Michael,  Marie,  Aileen,  Phil, 
and  myself.  Presently  we  passed  the  or 
chard,  and  we  stopped  the  wagon  and  all 
piled  out  to  get  peaches.  We  made  Uncle 
Jerry  come,  too,  and  left  you  in  the  wagon  to 
hold  the  horses.  I  know  not  what  demon  of 
mischief  possessed  you,  but  you  laid  the  whip 
on  old  Thunder  and  Lightning  and  left  us.  I 
can  see  it  now — the  two  big  black  horses  gal 
loping  on  over  the  hill  toward  "  Oakdale," 
and  you,  a  midget,  bobbing  up  and  down  on 
the  seat  clinging  to  the  reins  with  your  tiny 
brown  hands,  and  we,  like  hounds  after  a  rab 
bit,  chasing  on  behind  you,  Uncle  Jerry  in  the 
lead,  shouting  "Whoa,  Thunder!  whoa, 


96  When  the  Bugle  Called 

Lightning!  Lawd-er-Mighty,  dat  baby's  sho' 
ter  git  kilt !  "  What  a  long,  hot  walk  we  had, 
and  how  angry  we  were  with  you  when  we 
arrived  and  found  that  the  old  blacks  had 
brought  you  safely  home !  What  times  those 
were !  Will  we  ever  be  together  again,  I 
wonder?  '  " 

Here  Dahlia's  voice  broke,  and  her  head 
went  down  on  the  table.  The  tears  fell  on 
Aileen's  sewing,  and  Marie  sat  motionless, 
her  hands  clasped  tightly  in  her  lap. 

It  was  nearly  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
and  the  house  was  very  still,  as  the  children 
had  gone  with  Mammy  Cindy  on  some  er 
rand  to  the  quarters.  The  singing  and  twit 
tering  of  the  birds  outside,  and  the  soft  swish 
of  a  rose  vine  swayed  by  the  south  breeze, 
were  the  only  sounds  to  be  heard.  Not  a 
word  had  been  spoken  for  fully  fifteen  min 
utes,  when  suddenly  Marie  sprang  to  her 
feet  with  dilated  eyes  and  quick-drawn 
breath,  and  stood  rigid  in  the  attitude  of  one 
listening  to  a  faint,  far-off  sound.  Aileen  and 


The  Shadow  in  the  Darkness         97 

Dahlia  looked  up  at  her  in  surprise,  but  in 
an  instant  they  heard  it,  too,  and  their  eyes 
met  in  questioning  wonder.  It  was  only  foot 
steps,  quick  and  light,  coming  up  the  front 
steps  and  across  the  portico.  Then  the  front 
door  opened  and  closed,  and  the  light  tread 
came  on  toward  the  library. 

"  Keith !  "  Marie's  white  lips  could 
scarcely  utter  the  name. 

"  It  is  Keith !  "  cried  Aileen  joyously.  She 
threw  down  her  sewing  and  ran  to  the  door. 
Eagerly  she  opened  it — then  on  the  thresh 
old  stood  transfixed. 

The  hall  was  empty! 

For  a  moment  they  looked  and  listened; 
the  silence  was  profound. 

"  But  I  heard  him !  "  cried  Aileen,  looking 
from  one  to  the  other  in  bewilderment. 

"So  did  I,"  said  Dahlia;  "but  it  must 
have  been  our  imaginations — we  were  think 
ing  of  him  so,  I  suppose." 

Marie  stood  holding  to  the  back  of  her 
chair,  trembling  like  a  leaf. 

"  I  heard  him  when  he  came  in  the  iron 


98  When  the  Bugle  Called 

gates,"  she  half  whispered.  "  They  clanged 
behind  him,  and  he  walked  fast  up  the  drive." 

The  deadly  fear  at  her  heart  she  left  un 
spoken,  but  Mammy  Cindy,  coming  in  just 
then,  and  hearing  about  it,  was  not  so  con 
siderate. 

"  Dat's  all  I  wants  ter  know,"  she  said, 
dolefully  shaking  her  turbaned  head.  "  Mars 
Keith  sho'  am  dead.  Dat  wuz  his  ha'nt  come 
back  ter  see  we-all." 

"Hush,  Mammy!"  cried  Dahlia  sharply, 
seeing  Aileen's  troubled  face.  "  That  is  per 
fect  nonsense.  We  imagined  it,  that  is  all." 

"  Call  it  'magin'  ef  you  wants  ter,  but  I 
calls  it  er  ha'nt,"  grumbled  the  old  woman,  as 
she  left  the  room. 

Two  weeks  later  Aileen  received  a  letter 
from  Katharine  Anderson  telling  them  that 
Keith  had  been  very  ill,  but  was  then  out  of 
danger  and  on  the  high  road  to  a  speedy  re 
covery. 

"  Last  week,"  she  wrote,  "  we  gave  up  all 
hope.  On  Friday  it  was,  at  five  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  we  thought  he  was  gone — his 


The  Shadow  in  the  Darkness         99 

spirit  seemed  to  have  left  his  body;  but  now 
the  doctors  say  he  will  soon  be  well.  He 
sends  his  love  to  you." 

This  letter  brought  great  relief  to  them  all, 
and  they  were  so  filled  with  rejoicing  over 
Keith's  recovery  that  one  thing  was  lost  sight 
of  by  all  save  Marie.  Miss  Anderson  had 
said  that  the  week  before  this  letter  was  writ 
ten — on  Friday,  at  five  o'clock,  they  thought 
him  dead.  It  was  that  same  day  and  hour 
she  heard  him  come  in  the  big  gates  and  up 
the  drive  into  the  hall.  She  did  not  mention 
this  to  anyone,  and  indeed  had  little  time  to 
think  of  it  herself,  so  troubled  was  she  over 
plantation  affairs.  The  negroes  on  the  place 
not  only  refused  to  work,  but  some  of  them 
were  insolent  and  turbulent,  and  many  wild 
tales  were  brought  from  the  quarters  by  Elsie 
and  Dick.  One  by  one  the  house  servants, 
hitherto  faithful,  left  them,  until  none  re 
mained  save  fat  Lucy,  the  cook,  and  Mammy 
Cindy.  In  the  fields  old  Jerry,  with  Caesar's 
help,  did  all  the  work.  At  last  the  situation 
grew  so  serious  that  the  children  were  for- 


ioo  When  the  Bugle  Called 

bidden  to  leave  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
house.  No  one  dared  to  go  to  the  quarters 
but  Marie,  and  she  went  with  inward  mis 
givings.  The  two  negroes  known  as  Slue- 
foot  Ben  and  Baldhead  Jim,  who  had  left 
with  the  Federal  troops,  had  returned,  and 
now  reigned  supreme  over  the  negroes  of 
11  Oakdale  "  and  "  Idlewild."  The  horrible 
fear,  the  great,  black,  overshadowing  shape, 
crept  closer  through  the  darkness;  and  Marie, 
lying  awake  hours  and  hours  when  the  others 
slumbered  peacefully,  felt  its  approach,  and 
quaked  to  the  very  soul. 


CHAPTER   IX 
THE  UPRISING 

ONE  night,  about  the  first  of  May,  the 
three  girls,  with  Elsie  and  Dick,  sat  on  the 
front  portico  talking.  It  was  early  twilight; 
one  star  had  risen  over  the  pecan  tree,  and  in 
the  western  sky  the  afterglow  still  lingered 
in  rich,  warm  tints.  In  little  pauses  in  their 
talk  they  could  hear  the  twittering  and  com 
plaining  of  the  nestlings  in  the  thick  branches 
of  the  rose  vines  that  clambered  up  the  col 
umns  of  the  portico.  A  hush  seemed  to  have 
fallen  over  the  outside  world,  and  gradually 
it  stole  over  them,  until  their  desultory  con 
versation  trailed  off  into  silence. 

But  presently  Dick  grew  restless. 

"  Say,  Marie,"  he  said,  "  isn't  it  past  sup 
per  time?  I  am  awfully  hungry." 

"  Yes,  dear.  Aunt  Lucy  is  unusually  late 
to-night.  I  think  I  will  go  see  about  it." 


IO2  When  the  Bugle  Called 

But  before  she  could  take  a  step,  Lucy  ap 
peared  around  the  corner  of  the  house  in  a 
state  of  great  excitement. 

"Oh,  Lord-er-'Mighty,  lil1  Miss!"  she 
cried  in  a  high,  wailing  voice.  "  I's  seed  de 
sign,  an'  I's  got  ter  go ! — I's  got  ter  go !  " 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  matter,  Aunt 
Lucy?  "  asked  Marie  anxiously,  going  to  the 
end  of  the  portico.  "  Why  don't  you  have 
supper? " 

"  De  supper  am  cooked  an'  sot  on  de  table, 
but  I's  'bleeged  ter  go,  'caze  I's  seed  de  sign." 

Breaking  into  a  weird  chant,  she  started  off 
in  the  direction  of  the  quarters. 

Marie  called  to  her  in  vain.  The  only  re 
sponse  she  could  get  was: 

"I's  seed  design!" 

"  Dat  ole  Lucy  must  sho'ly  hab  gone  plum' 
crazy,"  exclaimed  Mammy  Cindy,  coming 
out  of  the  house  and  joining  Marie.  "  I  ain' 
neber  seed  sich  carryin's  on.  I's  jes'  gwine 
march  myse'f  down  dar  an'  see  what  ail  dat 
'oman.  Dar's  some'n  ain'  right  'bout  dis  bus 
iness.  I  ain'  lak  de  way  dem  niggers  been 


The   Uprising  103 

doin'  sence  ole  Sluefoot  and  Bal'haid  come 
back." 

"  Well,  you  go  see  about  it,  Mammy;  and 
tell  Uncle  Jerry  to  come  up  and  see  me  right 
away." 

Supper  was  soon  over,  and  the  weather 
being  quite  warm,  they  returned  and  sat  on 
the  front  steps,  waiting  for  Mammy  and 
Jerry.  The  night  was  dark,  but  in  the  sky 
were  myriads  of  stars.  Dick  soon  put  him 
self  to  sleep  counting  them. 

"  It  certainly  is  strange  that  Mammy 
doesn't  come  back,"  said  Dahlia,  after  a 
while. 

"  I'm  surprised  at  Jerry,"  added  Marie. 
"  He  is  usually  so  prompt." 

Presently  Dahlia  went  into  the  library  to 
look  at  the  clock. 

"  Marie,  it  is  half-past  ten,"  she  said  when 
she  came  back.  "  I  can't  understand  Mammy 
doing  this  way." 

Then,  descending  the  steps  of  the  portico, 
she  walked  down  into  the  yard,  where  she 
could  look  in  the  direction  of  the  quarters. 


104  When  the  Bugle  Called 

For  the  space  of  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  she 
stood  watching  and  listening  intently,  then 
called  to  Marie  in  a  low  tone: 

"  Come  here  just  a  minute,"  she  said. 
"  Listen !  "  she  whispered,  "  and  look  at  those 
moving,  flickering  lights — they  are  torches, 
and  there  is  a  bonfire.  What  does  it  mean?  " 

Borne  on  the  soft  night  breeze  there  came 
to  their  ears  a  sound,  now  swelling,  now  dy 
ing  away,  and  seemed  to  them  like  the  buz 
zing  of  innumerable  bees,  the  sighing  of  the 
west  wind  through  a  forest  of  pines,  or  the 
beating  of  surf  on  a  rocky  shore;  but  they 
knew  it  to  be  the  ceaseless  murmuring  of 
many  voices. 

With  a  long  shudder,  Marie  threw  her  arm 
around  Dahlia. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  whispered.  However, 
the  next  moment  she  drew  herself  up  to  her 
full  height. 

"  I  am  going  down  there  and  see  for  my 
self  what  it  means,  and  find  Mammy  and 
Uncle  Jerry." 

She    started    down    the    path    leading    to 


The   Uprising  1 05 

the  rear  of  the  house,  but  Dahlia  caught  her 
arm. 

"Marie,  are  you  crazy?  You  shall  not 
go!" 

"  But  something  must  be  done !  We  can't 
sit  here  and  wait  for — God  knows  what! 
Surely  they  would  not  hurt  me !  " 

"  Hush !  listen !  "  whispered  Dahlia,  still 
holding  her  firmly.  From  the  thicket  behind 
the  office  sounded  the  clear,  mournful  call  of 
a  whip-poor-will ;  three  times  it  came,  then  all 
was  still.  Faintly,  tremblingly,  Dahlia  an 
swered  it,  and  three  times  it  came  again.  The 
tall  grass  around  the  office  rustled  and  parted, 
and  a  shape,  black  against  the  surrounding 
darkness,  moved  slowly  toward  them.  Marie 
with  difficulty  stifled  a  scream,  but  Dahlia 
stepped  forward. 

"  Caesar!  "  she  called  softly. 

"  Hit's  me,  Missy,  an'  Fs  got  Lady  Jane 
back  h'yer,"  answered  a  voice  in  the  same 
guarded  tone.  "  Dey  shot  me  up,  but  I  got 
out  and  slipped  Lady  Jane  out'n  de  stable. 
Missy,  you  mus'  ride — ride  jes'  ez  fas'  ez  you 


106  When  the  Bugle  Called 

kin  ter  Ellersly  an'  bring  somebody;  bring  er 
white  man — de  pries',  er  anybody,  'caze  de 
'  Idlewild  '  niggers  an'  de  '  Oakdale  '  niggers 
gwine  er  rise  ter-night,  an'  don't  nobody  but 
de  debbil  know  what  dey  gwine  do.  Ride, 
Missy,  ride !  " 

"  Oh,  Dahlia,  you  can't — in  the  dark  and 
alone  !  Caesar,  you  go !  " 

"  I  c'yarnt,  IIP  Miss.  I's  done  hurt  mah 
foots,  an'  mah  han's  er  gittin  'loose  an'  I'd 
never  git  dar.  You  better  go,  Missy.  Don't 
was'e  no  time  er  talkin'.  Sluefoot  an'  BaP- 
haid  done  tied  up  Unc'  Jerry  an'  Aun'  Cindy. 
Aun'  Cindy  she  knocked  ole  Joe  f'um  '  Idle- 
wild  '  in  de  haid  wid  er  stick  er  wood,  so  dey 
tied  'er  up." 

"  There  is  nothing  else  to  do,  Marie.  I 
must  go.  I'm  not  one  bit  afraid.  But,  oh, 
Blessed  Mother,  I  hate  to  think  of  leaving 
now!" 

"  H'yer  de  hoss,  Missy.  Don't  spare  'er 
none,  'caze  dey's  gwine  er  rise  'bout  mid 
night." 

So  Dahlia  rode  off  into  the  darkness  of  the 


The  Uprising  107 

country  road  alone,  an  agony  of  fear  in  her 
heart.  She  knew  every  foot  of  the  way  to 
Ellersly;  the  road  was  level  and  sandy.  So, 
in  perfect  confidence  in  her  sure-footed  horse, 
she  urged  her  on  in  a  swift  gallop.  The 
little  creatures  of  the  wood  scuttled  about  in 
the  long  grass  on  either  side,  disturbed  by  the 
furious  rush  of  the  rider.  She  heard  them, 
and  sometimes  a  twig  cracking  more  loudly 
than  usual  sent  her  heart  into  her  throat.  It 
was  a  wild  ride,  and  Dahlia,  praying  with 
every  breath  that  she  might  find  assistance 
in  time,  peered  into  the  darkness  around,  and 
strained  her  ears  to  catch  every  sound. 

Suppose  she  should  ride  into  a  crowd  of 
negroes  from  u  Huntingdon,"  or  elsewhere, 
going  to  join  those  already  gathered  at  the 
"  Oakdale  "  quarters,  and  they  should  stop 
her?  The  blood  throbbed  fiercely  in  throat 
and  temple  at  the  thought,  and  she  wished  for 
the  pistol  the  soldiers  had  taken  from  her. 

Suddenly  from  somewhere  in  the  pine  for 
est  on  her  right  came  a  weird,  blood-curdling 
shriek  ringing  out  into  the  night  with  a  pe- 


io8  When  the  Bugle  Called 

culiar  melancholy  that  made  the  girl's  heart 
stand  still  and  cold  with  horror.  Her  mare 
gave  a  snort  of  fear  and  half  reared  up,  quiv 
ering  in  every  limb. 

"  It  was  only  a  screech-owl,  Lady  Jane," 
said  the  girl,  with  a  hysterical  laugh,  as  she 
patted  the  animal's  neck.  "  Hurry,  Lady 
Jane!  Oh,  hurry,  if  you  love  me!  " 

And  as  if  she  understood  the  sobbing  en 
treaty,  Lady  Jane  stretched  closer  to  the 
ground  and  galloped  on  and  on,  faster  and 
faster. 

Like  a  flash  she  passed  the  Haunted  Hol 
low,  where  the  children  always  walked  a-tip- 
toe  and  spoke  in  whispers  when  they  came 
that  way.  Almost  unconsciously  Dahlia 
glanced  fearfully  over  her  shoulder  at  the 
dark  spot  and  urged  her  horse  on  with  a 
pressure  of  her  heel.  The  pines  sped  by 
faster  and  faster,  black  shapes  against  the 
blackness  of  the  night,  and  the  girl,  in  ever- 
increasing  fear,  cried  out: 

"Oh,  hurry,  Lady  Jane!" 

In  the  little  cottage  where  Father  De  Berne 


The  Uprising  1 09 

had  lived  since  the  Federal  army  had  burned 
the  rectory,  there  sat  with  him  three  trav 
elers.  They  were  still  around  the  little  table 
whereon  the  good  priest  had  placed  all  the 
food  he  had  for  their  refreshment.  They 
had  eaten  it  all  to  the  last  crumb,  but  the 
worn,  hungry  look  had  not  left  thei'r  faces. 
Their  gray  uniforms  were  ragged  and  soiled, 
and  the  youngest  of  the  three — a  mere  boy — 
carried  his  arm  in  a  sling.  They  were  too 
tired  to  talk,  for  they  had  ridden  hard  all 
day.  Father  De  Berne,  throwing  them  oc 
casional  anxious  glances,  bustled  around,  mix 
ing  something  in  a  pitcher.  Taking  three 
glasses  from  a  cupboard,  he  placed  them  on 
the  table  and  was  about  to  fill  them,  when 
a  distant  sound  arrested  him.  It  was  the 
galloping  of  a  horse.  Nearer  and  nearer  it 
came,  up  to  the  very  steps  of  the  cottage,  and 
stopped.  The  three  men  sprang  to  their  feet, 
and  the  priest,  lamp  in  hand,  flung  open  the 
outside  door. 

"Oh,   Father  De  Berne!"   cried  a   girl's 
voice  from  the  darkness,  "  get  somebody,  and 


no  When  the  Bugle  Called 

horses,  and  go  quick  to  '  Oakdale ' !  The 
negroes  are  rising!  Oh,  be  quick!  quick!  " 

The  lamplight  pierced  the  intense  dark 
ness  without  and  shone  on  a  slight,  childish 
figure,  with  bared  curly  head,  seated  on  a 
panting,  foam-covered  horse. 

Her  entreating  glance  passed  the  priest  and 
reached  the  men  grouped  behind  her.  With 
a  sobbing,  joyous  cry  she  held  out  her  arms 
to  them. 

"Oh,  Michael,  Michael!  Father!  Thank 
God!" 


CHAPTER   X 
THE  RETURN 

MARIE  watched  Dahlia  ride  away  into  the 
night,  then  turned  back  to  the  house,  and  as 
she  went  up  the  steps  past  Aileen  she  stooped 
and  whispered  in  her  ear.  Aileen  gave  a 
little  half-strangled  cry  and  sprang  to  her 
feet. 

"  Merciful  Heaven!  "  she  gasped;  "what 
are  we  to  do?  " 

"  Wait  and  trust,  that  is  all,"  answered 
Marie  simply;  "  and  be  brave." 

"  What  is  it,  sister? "  asked  Elsie  anx 
iously,  pulling  at  Marie's  skirts. 

"  Nothing,  dear,  but  that  the  negroes  are 
very  rowdy  to-night,  and  we  had  best  not  go 
to  bed  yet." 

Elsie  began  to  cry. 

"  Now,  there  is  no  need  to  do  that,  Elsie ; 
there  is  nothing  to  fear.  Dahlia  has  ridden 


112  When  the  Bugle  Called 

for  Father  De  Berne  to  come  and  talk  to 
them." 

Nevertheless  the  girl's  white  face  and  trem 
bling  hands  belied  her  brave  words.  Elsie, 
somewhat  comforted,  sank  down  by  Dick, 
who,  curled  up  like  a  kitten,  slept  the  sleep 
of  innocence. 

"  Marie,  what  shall  we  do  if  they  come?  " 
whispered  Aileen. 

"  Nothing  but  sit  here  on  the  steps.  It 
would  be  of  no  use  to  go  inside,  since  the 
Yankees  took  the  hall  doors.  It  will  be  better 
to  show  a  brave  front — they  are  really  cow 
ards  at  heart,  you  know." 

For  an  hour  and  a  half  they  sat  on  the  steps 
waiting,  listening  to  the  confusion  of  sounds 
that  came  from  the  direction  of  the  quarters. 
Once  there  was  a  gunshot,  and  the  murmur 
ing  rose  louder,  though  still  as  alarmingly 
undefinable,  as  the  sounds  floated  through 
the  night  air.  With  their  hearts  in  their 
throats  the  two  girls  listened  and  waited  for 
what  seemed  an  eternity. 

The  old  clock  in  the  hall  struck  twelve ;  and 


The  Return  113 

mingled  with  its  "  ten !  eleven !  twelve !  " 
there  sounded,  faint  and  far  away,  the  beat 
ing  of  a  drum. 

Aileen  clutched  Marie's  arm  until  she 
winced  with  pain,  but  neither  spoke.  The 
deep,  heavy  boom  of  the  drum  swelled  louder 
and  louder,  and  the  ceaseless  murmuring  rose 
fiercer  and  higher. 

They  could  now  distinctly  hear  the  chant 
ing  of  some  wild,  weird  melody,  pierced  now 
and  again  with  a  shrill  shouting.  Nearer 
and  nearer  came  the  voices  of  the  rabble,  until 
Marie  and  Aileen  could  see  the  red  glare  of 
their  torches.  Elsie  began  to  cry  again,  and 
Marie  took  her  in  her  arms,  whispering  to 
her  until  the  child  grew  quieter. 

Around  the  corner  of  the  house  the  motley 
crew  approached,  the  great  drum  in  the  lead. 
There  were  several  hundred  negroes  in  all, 
collected  from  "  Idlewild  "  and  the  adjoining 
country,  and  down  at  the  "  Oakdale  "  quar 
ters  they  had  been  stirred  up  to  a  state  of 
wild  excitement  by  such  creatures  as  Ben  and 
Jim  and  Idlewild  Joe.  Across  the  yard  they 


114  When  the  Bugle  Called 

marched,  screeching  their  weird  chant;  around 
the  house — in  seeming  oblivion  of  the  girls  on 
the  portico  watching  them — and  back  again 
to  the  front.  Every  few  minutes  their  lead 
ers  broke  out  in  chanting,  punctuated  with 
shrill  exhortations.  Around  and  around  the 
house  they  went,  in  time  to  the  booming  of 
the  drum,  and  with  every  complete  revolution 
the  circle  drew  in  closer  to  the  frightened 
spectators. 

"  We's  done  seed  de  sign!  "  cried  a  voice 
high  above  the  din.  "  We's  done  seed  a  sign 
dat  de  black  man's  time  hab  come!  We's 
gwine  rise  ergin  de  oppressor,  an'  ain'  gwine 
er  wuk  no  mo' !  " 

"  Praise  de  Lawd !  De  time  hab  come !  " 
chimed  in  an  assenting  chorus. 

"  We's  gwine  hab  dis  Ian'  fer  our'n,"  con 
tinued  the  penetrating  voice;  "  we's  gwine  er 
see  de  white  man  plow  an'  hoe !  " 

"Praise  de  Lawd!" 

"  We's  done  seed  de  sign !  "  chanted  the 
chorus. 

The  column  finally  came  to  a  halt  close  to 


The  Return  115 

the  portico  steps,  and  Marie  rose  to  her  feet, 
all  fear  forgotten. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this?  "  she  cried 
in  clear,  commanding  tones.  u  You  have  cele 
brated  enough  now — it  is  time  you  were  go 
ing  home.  Do  you  understand?  Disperse, 
and  go  home  instantly — every  one  of  you !  " 

"  Yas,  Lawd,  we's  gwine  home." 

Sluefoot  Ben,  a  big  negro  with  a  brutal, 
cunning  face,  stepped  from  the  front  ranks, 
close  to  Marie,  and  grinned  horribly  in  her 
face. 

'  Yas,  honey,  we's  gwine  home;  but  we  got 
er  gre't  min'  ter  bu'n  down  dis  ole  shack  fus'. 
Yas,  honey,  dis  ole " 

"  I'll  teach  you  'bout  '  honeyin'  '  my  young 
mistiss,  you  low-lived  debbil !  "  screeched  a 
ferocious  voice.  "  Tek  dat,  an'  dat!  an'  go 
ter  de  onliest  home  dat'll  hab  you,  you  chile 
er  Satan !  "  And  Mammy  Cindy,  with  a  pal 
ing  for  a  weapon,  soon  beat  the  would-be 
leader  into  insensibility. 

"  What  you  fool  niggers  mean  er-comin' 
h'yer  pesterin'  dese  po'  lambs  what  nebber 


Ii6  When  the  Bugle  Called 

done  you  no  harm  in  yer  lives?  Ain't  yer 
'shame' !  What  yer  reckon  Mars  Phil  gwine 
er  say  ter  yer  when  he  h'yers  'bout  sich  cyar'- 
in's  on?" 

"  Ketch  'er  an'  tie  'er  ergin,"  yelled  sev 
eral  voices.  "  She  ain't  nothin'  but  er  white 
folks'  nigger !  " 

Baldhead  Jim  sprang  forward  and  tried 
to  grasp  the  irate  old  woman,  but  she  flour 
ished  her  paling  around  her  head.  "  Don't 
you  tech  me,  you  ole  bal'haid  ape !  I's  er 
dangerous  'oman,  I  is !  " 

A  withered  old  crone  leaning  on  a  stick 
stepped  forward  from  the  shadow  of  a  tree 
and  shook  her  fist  at  the  belligerent  figure  on 
the  steps. 

"  You  done  kilt  my  Joe !  "  she  screamed 
shrilly,  "  an'  I's  gwine  er  conjer  you.  I's 
gwine  er  hoodoo  you  ra't  now.  Dat  arm 
gwine  swivel  up  an'  drap  off.  Hit's  begun 
ter  dry  up  now — hit's  begun,  'caze  de  time 
hab  come !  " 

"Hit's  dryin'  up,  is  it?"  jeered  Cindy, 
with  derisive  laughter,  shaking  her  weapon 


The  Return  117 

combatively ;  "  you  jes'  come  er  little  closer, 
you  ole  witch,  an'  I'll  show  you  'bout  it !  " 

"Oh,  Marie,  look!"  cried  Aileen  wildly. 
"  They  have  set  the  barns  on  fire !  " 

A  frenzied  shout  arose  from  the  crowds 
of  negroes  in  the  yard,  and  they  excitedly 
pressed  closer  about  the  portico.  Suddenly 
the  air  was  rent  by  a  child's  piercing  shriek, 
and  Marie  looked  behind  her  just  in  time  to 
see  Elsie  struggling  in  the  arms  of  a  big 
burly  negro. 

She  tried  to  run  down  the  steps  to  Elsie, 
but  consciousness  forsook  her,  and  she  fell  in 
a  little  lifeless  heap  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 
Unhappily  she  did  not  know  that  Elsie  had 
merely  fallen  from  the  portico  and  had  been 
picked  up  and  handed  back  to  Mammy  Cindy 
by  one  of  the  Elmore  negroes  from  "Hunt 
ingdon  " ;  nor  did  she  hear  the  thundering  of 
horses'  hoofs  coming  up  the  drive. 

The  next  instant  into  the  crowd  dashed  two 
men,  both  in  the  uniforms  of  captains,  one  in 
blue  and  the  other  in  gray. 

"What   does   this  mean?"   cried   a   stern 


n8  When  the  Bugle  Called 

voice.  "  You  devils !  Put  out  those  fires  in 
stantly — do  you  hear?  I've  got  a  great  mind 
to  cowhide  the  last  one  of  you!  " 

"  Lawd-er-'Mighty,  Mars  Keith!  We 
didn't  mean  no  harm;  we  wuz  jes'  celebratin' 
'caze  we  wuz  free !  " 

"  Well,  I'll  find  out  all  about  that  to-mor 
row.  Put  out  those  fires,  and  be  quick  about 
it!" 

They  rushed  pellmell  to  obey  him,  cring 
ing  and  whining  like  whipped  hounds. 

"  Where  is  Caesar?  "  called  Keith.  "  Here, 
Caesar,  take  care  of  the  horses.  Come,  An 
derson,"  turning  to  his  companion,  "  let  us 
see  where  the  girls  are.  We  were  just  in 
time." 

At  the  bottom  of  the  steps  his  foot  struck 
against  some  soft  object.  He  stooped,  and 
found  Marie  lying  in  a  little  heap  where  she 
had  fallen.  With  a  deep  oath  he  picked 
her  up. 

"  If  she  is  dead,  or  injured  in  any  way," 
he  cried  bitterly,  "  they  shall  pay  for  it  with 
their  lives !  " 


The  Return  119 

He  carried  her  into  the  house  and  laid  her 
tenderly  down  on  a  couch. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Colonel  Dupre, 
with  Philip,  Michael,  and  Dahlia,  rode  into 
the  yard.  Their  jaded  horses  were  a  lather 
of  foam,  and  Dahlia  was  so  stiff  and  weary 
that  she  fell  almost  fainting  from  Lady  Jane, 
and  with  difficulty  dragged  herself  into  the 
house. 

Fatigued  as  he  was  from  having  been  in 
the  saddle  all  day,  the  Colonel,  with  Philip, 
rode  immediately  to  the  quarters,  while  Mi 
chael  went  to  the  assistance  of  Captain  Ander 
son,  who  was  overseeing  the  extinguishing  of 
the  flames,  giving  commands  and  bringing 
order  out  of  chaos.  His  blue  uniform,  repre 
senting  as  it  did  the  power  of  the  Federal 
Government,  was  the  finishing  stroke,  and  in 
a  very  short  time  everything  was  quiet  and 
the  negroes  dispersed. 

When  Marie  opened  her  eyes  it  was 
Keith's  face,  tender  and  anxious,  that  she 
saw  bending  over  her.  Too  weak  and  shaken 
to  try  to  understand  what  it  all  meant,  she 


I2O  When  the  Bugle  Called 

simply  looked  up  at  him  and  smiled,  giving 
the  hand  that  held  hers  a  little  squeeze. 

Then  into  her  eyes  crept  a  frightened  ex 
pression,  and  she  tried  to  sit  up. 

"  Elsie !  Where  is  she?  "  she  asked  breath 
lessly. 

"  Upstairs.  Mammy  is  putting  her  to 
sleep — she  is  all  right.  Lie  still,  dear;  every 
thing  is  quiet  now,  and  we  are  here  to  take 
care  of  you." 

Secure  in  the  comfort  of  Keith's  presence, 
she  closed  her  eyes  and  lay  quite  still  for  a 
while.  He  knelt  by  her  side,  holding  her 
hand  and  studying  the  thin,  pale  face — noting 
the  deep  shadows  underneath  her  eyes  and 
the  wistful  droop  of  her  mouth.  To  Marie 
it  seemed  like  a  dream,  from  which  she  must 
shortly  awaken. 

It  was  Keith's  voice,  speaking  very  softly, 
that  broke  into  her  half-conscious  state. 

"  Marie,  what  are  you  doing  with  this?  " 
With  his  free  hand  he  touched  lightly  the 
tiny  gold  crucifix  that  hung  on  a  chain  around 
her  neck.  Seeing  her  puzzled  expression,  he 


The  Return  121 

continued:  "You  know,  once  after  a  battle, 
I  saw  Michael  with  it,  and  I  remembered  that 
you  had  said  it  was  for  the  man  you  loved — 
that  you  would  give  it  to  the  man  you  were 
going  to  marry.  Why  have  you  taken  it 
back  again?  " 

"  I  did  not  give  it  to  him.  He  found  it, 
and  has  returned  it,  that  is  all." 

He  bent  over  her  closer. 

"Then  you  do  not  love  him?"  he  whis 
pered  eagerly. 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  and  she  turned  away  her 
face. 

"  Then,  Marie,  is  there  any  hope  for  me?  " 

She  flashed  him  a  surprised  look. 

"For  you?  But,  Keith,  I  do  not  under 
stand.  I  thought — I  heard — Miss  Anderson 
— that  you; " 

"That  I  loved  her?  No,  Marie,  I  have 
never  loved  any  one  but  you.  Katharine  is 
engaged  to  John  Fairfax,  who  is  a  surgeon  in 
the  Confederate  army,  and  a  dear  friend  of 
mine." 

Then  ensued  a  little  silence,  a  wonderful, 


122  When  the  Bugle  Called 

delicious  silence,  such  as  only  falls  between 
lovers. 

"  Sweetheart,  have  you  not  known  all  this 
time  that  I  loved  you  with  my  whole  soul?  " 

She  did  not  answer,  but  tried  to  hide  the 
gladness  in  her  eyes  by  covering  them  with 
her  hands. 

"  Tell  me,  Marie,"  he  insisted,  drawing 
her  hands  down  and  holding  them  in  his: 
"  Do  you  love  me?  " 

"Yes,  Keith,"  she  whispered;  "so  dearly 
• — so  very  dearly." 


CHAPTER  XI 
A   KNOT  OF  RED   RIBBON 

AFTER  things  had  quieted  down,  Michael 
went  in  search  of  Dahlia.  His  thin,  dark 
face  wore  a  troubled  look,  and  he  held  a 
piece  of  crumpled  red  ribbon  in  his  hand.  He 
found  her  alone  in  the  dining-room.  The 
spirit  that  had  upheld  her  through  her  wild 
ride  to  Ellersly  seemed  to  have  fled,  and  she 
lay  back  exhausted  in  her  father's  armchair 
at  the  foot  of  the  table,  her  eyes  closed,  and 
her  hands  inert  and  lifeless  in  her  lap. 

Michael  stood  on  the  threshold  regarding 
her.  How  delicate,  and  childish,  and  tired 
she  looked!  Should  he  add  to  the  weight 
already  upon  her  heart?  Perhaps  he  had 
best  not  tell  her  now.  Torn  between  pity  for 
her  and  an  impelling  force  from  within  that 
urged  him  to  speak  and  have  done  with  it,  he 
hesitated  at  the  door.  Dahlia  must  have  felt 
123 


124  When  the  Bugle  Called 

his  presence,  for  her  lids  quivered  and  opened, 
and  she  met  his  gaze  with  eyes  that  lighted 
up  at  sight  of  him. 

"  Come  in,"  she  said,  with  a  wan  little 
smile;  "  come,  sit  down;  I  know  you  are  dead 
tired.  Is  everything  quiet?"  Then  catch 
ing  sight  of  the  ribbon  in  his  hand,  she  sat 
up  very  straight,  life  and  color  coming  slowly 
back  to  her  face. 

"Where  did  you  get  that?"  she  cried, 
holding  out  her  hand.  "  It  is  the  ribbon  I 
gave  Sydney!  Where  did  you  get  it?" 

He  came  to  her  side  and  put  it  gently  in 
her  hand. 

"  I  took  it  out  of  his  hand  after  the  battle 
of  Appomattox,"  he  said,  speaking  very 
gravely.  "  You  know  he  always  wore  it  on 
his  arm.  Even  the  Union  soldiers  came  to 
notice  it.  There  was  heavy  fighting  around  a 
gun — well,  we  got  the  worst  of  it,  and  were 
being  driven  back,  when  suddenly  Sydney 
caught  sight  of  a  young  Yankee  boy  in  the 
enemy's  front  ranks  with  this  ribbon  stuck  on 
the  point  of  his  bayonet  and  was  shouting  and 


A  Knot  of  Red  Ribbon  125 

jeering.  Sydney  turned  his  horse  about,  and, 
drawing  his  sword,  called  to  the  men  to  fol 
low.  He  rode  like  a  whirlwind  straight  for 
that  Yankee  boy.  Our  men  gave  the  Rebel 
yell  and  rushed  after  him.  The  enemy  re 
treated  at  that  point — we  won  back  the  gun. 
When  I  found  them,  the  young  Northerner 
and  Sydney  were  both  dead,  but  Sydney  had 
this  ribbon  clasped  tightly  in  his  hand." 

Dahlia  listened  to  him  breathlessly,  the 
slow  tears  gathering  in  her  wide  brown  eyes 
and  falling  unheeded  on  the  ribbon  in  her 
lap.  Michael  watched  her  pityingly,  wish 
ing  she  might  have  been  spared  this  pain. 
When  he  had  finished  the  recital  of  Sydney's 
chivalrous  end  she  caught  the  crumpled, 
stained  thing  to  her  lips  and  kissed  it  rever 
ently. 

"Such  a  glorious  death!  "  she  murmured, 
her  voice  choked  with  sobs.  "  And  how 
dearly  he  loved  me !  "  Then,  hiding  her 
face  in  her  hands,  she  leaned  forward,  with 
bowed  head,  and  was  very  still. 

While  Dahlia  was  engrossed  in  her  silent 


126  When  the  Bugle  Called 

grief  Michael  bent  over  and  touched  her 
dark  curls  very  lightly  with  his  lips. 

"  God  bless  you,  dear,"  he  whispered, 
"  and  help  you  bear  this." 

He  would  have  left  her  then,  but  just  as 
he  reached  the  door  she  called  him  back. 

"Michael,  come  here;  there  is  something 
I  want  to  say  to  you." 

He  came,  and  stood  leaning  against  the 
high  back  of  a  chair  near  her. 

"  It  is  something  rather  hard  to  say,"  she 
went  on  hesitatingly,  her  hands  toying  nerv 
ously  with  the  ribbon  in  her  lap.  She  paused, 
and  he,  wondering  greatly,  waited  for  her  to 
continue. 

"Well?  "he  said  at  length. 

"  You  remember  that  night  before  you 
were  captured  " — she  spoke  hurriedly  now, 
and  the  color  flamed  in  her  cheeks — "  and 
what  you  asked  Marie?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  his  brown  face  grow 
ing  sympathetically  red;  "I  asked  her  to 
marry  me,  and  she  refused." 

"  Yes,  I  know  she  did;  but,   Michael,  if 


A  Knot  of  Red  Ribbon  127 

you  will  ask  her  again,  I  think — I  believe — I 
know  she  will  say  yes,  and  she  will  be  much 
happier  with  you  than  she  is  now.  I  am  sure 
of  it.  You  will  ask  her  again,  will  you  not, 
Michael?"  She  was  looking  up  at  him  be 
seechingly,  and  speaking  somewhat  incoher 
ently  in  her  excitement. 

Michael's  face  had  grown  very  grave,  and 
his  clasp  on  the  chair-back  was  tense  and 
strained. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  have  told  me  this,"  he 
said,  "  for  it  is  impossible.  I  cannot  in  honor 
ask  Marie  to  marry  me  again — because  I  love 
someone  else." 

Dahlia  lifted  her  eyes  to  his,  her  vivid  face 
a-quiver  with  a  conflict  of  emotions. 

"  Love  someone  else?  "  she  murmured  in 
credulously. 

"  To  my  sorrow,  yes.  I  had  not  intended 
speaking  of  it  for  a  long  time  yet,  but  the 
fates  seem  to  have  decreed  otherwise.  Let 
me  begin  with  my  love  for  Marie.  You 
know  I  loved  her  all  through  my  childhood 
and  youth  and  early  manhood.  It  is  good  for 


128  When  the  Bugle  Called 

a  boy  to  have  a  love  like  that — it  purifies  him, 
ennobles  all  his  thoughts  of  life.  Well,  you 
know  they  say  love  is  blind.  My  love  for 
Marie  was  blind.  I  did  not  understand  its 
quality,  and  I  was  blind  to  the  fact.  I  loved 
Marie  as  the  heathens  loved  their  goddesses 
— as  the  good  Catholic  loves  the  Blessed 
Virgin." 

His  voice  trembled  a  little,  and  he  paused 
to  steady  it. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  story  of  Orion?  " 
he  went  on  presently.  "  You  know,  after  he 
became  blind  he  had  them  lead  him  to  the 
top  of  a  hill  where  the  first  sunbeam  could 
touch  his  eyes,  and  his  sight  came  back.  Well, 
that  morning  after  my  escape  from  death  in 
the  Northern  camp  I  was  on  a  hilltop  when 
the  sun  rose,  and  it  touched  the  eyes  of  my 
soul,  and  I  knew  then  that  the  worship  I  had 
given  Marie  was  not  the  love  of  a  man  for 
a  woman.  Since  the  other  love  has  come  to 
me  I  know  the  difference — it  has  a  warmth,  a 
fire — a  divine  fire — that  the  other  could  never 
have  had.  It  is  like  comparing  the  pale  cold 


A  Knot  of  Red  Ribbon  129 

light  of  the  moon  to  the  glorious,  unclouded 
sunshine." 

He  ceased  speaking,  and  Dahlia  sat  with 
downcast  eyes,  waiting  for  him  to  continue. 
At  last  the  silence  grew  painful  to  her. 

"  Is  she  a  Northern  girl,  like  Keith's  be 
trothed?  "  she  asked,  speaking  very  low. 

He  hesitated  before  he  answered. 

"  No,  the  girl  I  love  is  not  of  the  North," 
he  said  slowly.  "  On  the  hill  that  morning 
after  my  escape,  I  planted  in  my  heart,  there 
to  live  and  grow  forever,  a  Southern  flower 
—a  Dahlia." 

Dahlia  turned  in  her  chair  until  her  face 
was  hidden  against  its  cushioned  back,  so 
Michael  could  only  see  one  small,  pink  ear 
and  part  of  a  soft  brown  cheek  flushed  like 
a  peach  bloom. 

He  went  to  her  and  knelt  beside  her,  clasp 
ing  the  nervous  little  hand  that  held  the  rib 
bon  in  both  his  own. 

"  Dahlia,"  he  said,  speaking  very  low, 
"had  you  given  your  heart  to  Sydney?  If 
you  had,  if  you  love  him,  speak  just  one  word 


130  When  the  Bugle  Called 

and  I  will  go  away  at  once  and  wait.  I  am 
willing  to  wait  for  years." 

Slowly  she  turned  to  him  her  love-flushed 
face  and  glad  eyes.  With  her  free  hand  she 
pushed  the  black  waves  of  hair  from  his  fore 
head  and  looked  deep  into  his  steadfast  blue 
eyes. 

"  Michael,"  she  said,  "  I  have  never  loved 
anyone  but  you  for  one  instant  in  my  whole 
life." 

There  was  a  long  silence  between  them 
after  that.  Then  Michael  laughed  and 
broke  the  spell. 

"  Dahlia,  tell  me  why,  loving  me  yourself, 
you  wanted  to  marry  me  to  Marie?  " 

"  Because  I  never  dreamed  of  your  loving 
me,"  she  answered,  raising  her  head  from 
where  it  had  rested  on  his  shoulder  and  meet 
ing  his  smiling  glance.  "  And  I  thought  you 
loved  her,  and  I  wanted  you  to  be  happy." 

"  But  Marie  did  not  love  me,  dear." 

"  No,  I  knew  that;  but  she  could  not  have 
helped  growing  to  love  you  afterward.  I 
did  not  want  her  to  spoil  your  life — and  hers 


A  Knot  of  Red  Ribbon  131 

— over  Keith,  so  I  got  her  to  promise  if  you 
ever  asked  her  again  to  say  yes." 

"  I  think  Keith  loves  her,  after  all — there 
was  some  mistake." 

"  Let's  go  find  them,"  cried  Dahlia,  spring 
ing  to  her  feet.  "  We  have  been  selfish  in  our 
happiness.  They  must  be  wondering  where 
we  are." 

Hand  in  hand,  like  two  children,  they  went 
out  of  the  old  dining-room  and  down  the  hall 
in  search  of  Marie.  They  found  her  in  the 
library  with  Keith.  Dahlia  ran  to  her  with 
a  little  joyous  cry  and  clasped  her  in  her 
arms. 

"  You  are  happy,  Marie !  I  can  see  it  in 
your  face.  And  I — I  am  so  happy,  and  so 
thankful!" 

And  looking  like  a  sweet  wild  rose,  she 
held  out  one  hand  to  Michael. 

"  Marie,  will  you  give  her  to  me?  "  asked 
Michael,  in  a  voice  full  of  emotion.  "  I  want 
her  more  than  I  ever  wanted  anything  be 
fore  in  my  life." 

"  De  Lawd  he'p !  "  cried  Mammy  Cindy, 


132  When  the  Bugle  Called 

standing  in  the  door  with  arms  akimbo  re 
garding  the  group.  u  Sich  c'yarin's  on  I 
ain't  neber  seed.  Dar's  Cap'n  Anderson  er- 
kissin'  Miss  Aileen  out  on  de  po'ch,  an' 
h'yer's  my  two  lambs  er-kissin'  in  de  house. 
Whut  you  reckon  Mars  Phil  gwine  say?  But 
he  better  not  say  nothin'  but  '  Bless  you,  mah 
chullen,'  er  he'll  sho'  h'yer  f'um  Cindy!  " 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


of  CALi*  UK*IA 
AT 

LOS  ANGELES 
LIBRARY 


UCLA-Young  Research   Library 

PS2978  .T189w 
yr 


L  009  606  393  8 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001  242  032  9 


